Sempiterma Nox
by Araven14
Summary: All it takes to change the fate of the world is an impulsive decision or two, made by beings with far more power than common sense. Vampire!LightxL M for language.
1. Prologue: Rebirth

**Haha, yeah... I started writing my own plot bunny, though admittedly quite a few things have been tweaked as ideas began occurring to me. In fact, pretty much the only things that have stayed the same are the facts that this will eventually be Light/L, and that Light is a vampire. Yeah... still kinda dark, classic vampire, again with things tweaked to suit the story. But you'll see more of that later on.**

**There will be several OCs in this story - they won't be hugely important for the most part, and there will be NO maincharacterxOC pairings, 'cause that tends to annoy me. Just thought I'd warn you now.**

**Death Note=not mine ;P**

**Prologue: Rebirth.**

* * *

Black. A colour commonly associated with mourning, particularly in western culture; for that reason, Light had never really wanted black at his funeral. He had always thought it far too depressing; besides, he had joked, why should he like dark colours? They were his opposite, his nemesis! Such a bright boy, Soichiro thought sadly. He would have hated this, the sea of black that could drag you in and hold you in its jaws, like a rabid beast. Light would've much preferred creams and beiges.

Then again, what did it matter now? His only son was dead, and Soichiro was damn well going to mourn properly before finding and catching the bastard who had the gall to do this to another human being – to his son!

_What a tragedy,_ the neighbours whispered. _Their only son... he was so intelligent, handsome too. The good ones always die young._ They didn't understand – how could they? His son had been murdered and left in some alleyway to rot.

The woman who had found him – Kuri, Soichiro thought her name was – was very understanding about the whole thing, and had even attended the funeral. A strange one, but then, Soichiro supposed that tripping over a dead body whilst on your way home was enough to send anyone round the bend. A tall woman of obvious European descent, her Japanese was flawless, and he couldn't fault her manners, no matter how unusual her appearance. Enormous white eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses; long hair dyed silver fell in sleek waves down her back; the various rune-like tattoos and gothic clothing all came together to form a very... unique image. Kuri wasn't the sort of woman that Soichiro would forget in a hurry.

Of course, when he had heard that his department would be investigating the murder, Soichiro had insisted that he be put on the team of investigators working on the case. The higher-ups thought that it would be inappropriate for someone with such a strong personal link to the victim to be working on the team, but Soichiro had insisted. He wanted to be the one to personally send the son of a bitch to prison for life; or preferably, the electric chair. Either way was fine with him. Damn it, he would shoot the man himself, given half a chance!

The crime scene had been classic detective-novel material – completely clean of all evidence besides the body itself. Cause of death: two parallel cuts on Light's throat. Too rough and messy to be a knife, yet still clean enough to rule out most other murder weapons that would usually be suspected in a case like this; Light had bled to death, yet very little blood had been found at the scene, suggesting the body had been moved. No witnesses had come forward, and Soichiro could think of plenty of people with a motive – after all, Light was the son of a police chief, and well on his way to becoming a great policeman himself. There were plenty of criminals who would benefit from his death.

The ceremony was closed casket, for which Soichiro was grateful. He didn't want his wife and daughter's last memories of Light to be of him lying pale and still, never to open his golden-brown eyes and laugh again. Soichiro had seen his son's body – despite the horrific rips in his throat, Light managed to look like a porcelain doll. Sculpted and beautiful, yet so, so cold. His eyes had been shut and his face was surprisingly peaceful, which suggested that he had not been conscious when he was killed (for which Soichiro was grateful) though no traces of any drug had been found in his system. Admittedly, there had been very little blood left to test, but if there had been any drugs in him, they would've shown up on the tests, right?

One by one, Light's family and friends stepped forward to pay their respects – Soichiro had known that Light was popular, but for so many to be here? It was unbelievable, particularly the number of sobbing girls. Soichiro knew that Light had grown into a handsome and charming young man, but this was bordering on ridiculous. Just how many admirers had his son gained in high school?

Even the girl, Kuri, laid a bunch of roses atop the coffin – some of them white, some of them black, all held together with a length of crimson ribbon. Soichiro supposed he could forgive the girl her choice – judging by the colour of her eyes, she was blind, so her colour choice was excusable, and besides, she couldn't have known that Light didn't like roses.

The rain was gentle; more of a light shower than anything else, and Soichiro could feel the droplets slowly saturating his hair. He sighed, glancing up at the dismal grey sky, a light breeze playing across his face and drying tears he didn't realise had fallen.

Soichiro accepted the many condolences given by friends and family as graciously as he knew how, a supporting hand on his wife's shoulder, an arm wrapped around Sayu's frail frame, holding her tight as she sobbed over her big brother. He knew that this was hard on them – just as hard as it was on him, if not harder. He hadn't been home often, his work hadn't allowed it, and though he loved his son more than anything, he hadn't been nearly as close to him as his wife and daughter had. He regretted that now.

Parents weren't supposed to outlive their children, it wasn't right. It went against nature. They were supposed to watch their children grow to be fine adults, not watch their coffin being lowered into the cold, hard ground.

Soichiro didn't notice that the funeral had ended. He didn't notice the swarms of people dressed from head-to-toe in black leaving the cemetery. He hardly even noticed his feet carrying him forwards until he reached the edge of the grave. Staring down into the pit, Soichiro fixed his eyes on the few flowers that rested atop the hardwood coffin.

"I will find the bastard who did this to you, Light, and I promise that I will bring them to justice, if it is the last thing I do," Soichiro vowed softly.

Inside the coffin, Light Yagami's lips twitched upwards into the faintest hint of a smile.

* * *

Wicked wasn't entirely sure why she had chosen Light Yagami – all she knew was that she had seen the perfect opportunity and had taken it before this fascinating human could slip away. An attractive boy, he carried himself with a grace and poise that Wicked had never before seen in a human; he was already more of a vampire than some vampires she knew.

It was more than just that, though. Wicked saw something in the child's eyes that showed promise that she hadn't seen for a _long_ time. Cool and calculating, they surveyed the world around them in a way that was almost detached, and Wicked could practically _smell_ the intelligence and contempt that rolled from him in waves. Still, beneath the calm exterior, Wicked could sense the burning passion that lingered just underneath the surface – this boy would throw himself into whatever he did, and he would excel at it, because that was the way humans like him acted.

Not to mention his smell – oh God, his _smell_. Pleasantly bitter, like pine needles, or good coffee, or... Wicked was slightly disappointed that even after all of these millennia, she couldn't come up with a better comparison, but there really was no way to describe the scent of the boy... Light Yagami, according to the blood-red characters hanging above his head. Wicked knew that this human was something different, something special. This human was _interesting_.

In Wicked's eyes, 'interesting' was one of the greatest compliments that could be given. After so many long years of life, she was bored almost constantly. To find something besides hunting and manipulating humans that captured her interest – well, that was rare.

Light had struggled bravely, and though his mortal strength was pitiful, Wicked admired the boy's determination. It was clear from the instant Wicked dragged him into a small alleyway nearby that the human didn't stand a hope in hell of winning, yet he fought anyway. The struggles hadn't ceased as she wrapped her arms around the young human, and Wicked decided that she liked this one – he was feisty, he had spirit.

The boy's pulse fluttered against Wicked's mouth, and she felt herself grin against the smooth skin. Light had frozen as soon as Wicked had touched her lips against Light's throat, and Wicked could almost see the thoughts flashing through the boy's mind. _Violation, rape, helphelphelp._ Yet the boy didn't scream, his pride didn't allow it, though Wicked could smell the fear that sang in his veins.

"Don't struggle, Light Yagami," Wicked warned, before she couldn't hold back any longer. She felt a barrier in her mind give way as conscious thought became primal instinct, and teeth that had been perfectly straight until a few seconds previous now sharpened into what could only be described as fangs. She could see the reflection of her eyes in Light's terrified gaze, and saw that they burned a startling red.

"How do you... ungh," Light trailed off as Wicked began to feed. That was normal for a human. Light's head fell back, allowing for easier access to his throat – that, too, was normal. What was not normal was the sudden rush of thoughts, memories and emotions that flooded through her with Light's blood. This mental bond was stronger than any Wicked had experienced before, and it only served to strengthen the knowledge that this boy was not the average human. His potential psychic abilities were astounding – the vampire could hardly believe her luck. This could be _fun_.

* * *

Light was almost certain that it was impossible for his luck to get any worse. After having such a terrible day at school – his classes seemed to get more tedious with each passing day – not to mention his social life – he had been asked on no less than _three_ dates in the past two hours alone – and cram school – as though regular school wasn't torture enough. Quite honestly, Light wanted nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep with a nice hot water bottle. Instead, he was being dragged into a deserted alley by some crazed albino gothic chick.

Really, this was _exactly _what he needed; even in his thoughts he sounded sarcastic and cynical – bitter. At just seventeen, Light Yagami had all but given up on humanity as a whole. This incident was, so far, only serving to strengthen his beliefs.

Still, that didn't stop him from attempting to bring the bitch to within an inch of her life – the operative word being 'attempting'. This woman must have been an awful lot stronger than her (rather willowy) appearance suggested. Two slender arms wrapped around his torso, and Light struggled even harder – this wasn't looking good at all. Lips touched his neck with a surprising tenderness that did nothing whatsoever to reassure him. Just because this girl wasn't hurting him, it didn't mean that Light wanted this.

"Don't struggle, Light Yagami," a melodic voice breathed in his ear – the girl sounded like a flipping angel. That, however, wasn't what worried Light the most. How did this woman know his name? Had she been following him? No, Light was almost certain that he would've noticed if someone was following him. So, had the girl found his files? They were public enough, as Light damn well knew – he had hacked into police files enough times to know that it was almost as easy as checking his email.

"How do you... ungh," Light groaned as he felt something sharp puncture the skin of his neck, and some distant part of him was ashamed at the pathetic groan that seemed to be the only thing he was capable of saying. His head fell backwards as something that could only be described as pure pleasure flooded his system. This was _wrong_, so wrong, yet Light had never felt anything like this, and he wanted it to go on and on, he wished that this feeling could last forever because surely nothing could ever possibly compare...

Then it was over. The last remnants of the unbelievable pleasure ebbed slowly from Light's veins, and he dimly heard the voice talking again – though not to him, it seemed. More like the woman was muttering to herself. Light tried to turn his head, to open his eyes and see what was going on, but it was as though he was bound by invisible ropes and couldn't move. He couldn't open his eyes, he couldn't _breathe_, even his heart felt as though it was slowing down, each beat more painful and strained than the last.

"Relax, Light Yagami. You're perfectly fine – or at least, you will be. I know that this must be difficult for you, and I know that you can't move, but allow me to assure you that that's perfectly normal; there's absolutely nothing to worry about."

_Nothing to worry about?_ Light though furiously. _I'm dying over here, and you're telling me that it's completely normal and there's nothing to worry about?_

"Please, listen to me; I know exactly what you're thinking, but believe me, it's exactly the same for all of us. You'll regain full control of your body in about... Well, somewhere between two days and a week, it varies from person to person."

_What the hell? 'All of us'? Who is this girl? _What _is this girl? What does that make me?_

"I must apologise; I am terribly sorry for your confusion, Light Yagami. I'll admit, I haven't approached this very well, have I? You may call me Wicked, and I am a vampire."

* * *

**So? What do you guys think? Should I add any more chapters? (I already have another two typed up, but I don't want to suddenly lose all of my enthusiasm and disappoint you guys) Also, though this isn't quite as applicable in this chapter, I really know very little about Japan, the language and the culture, so if I make any mistakes, don't hesitate to let me know, okay? Oh, before I forget, Kuri=Wicked in Estonian according to google translate. I dunno, just seemed like the sort of thingshe'd do, using her own name in another language as an alias.**

**Plus, those of you who read Three Days, and therefore have already met Wicked, she wasn't a vampire in that story. I just kinda liked her character, so decided to carry her across.**


	2. Confrontation

**I know! Another chapter already! Well, I figured that since I'd already typed it out, I might as well post it. In this chapter we are introduced to all of the OCs I am going to use in this story (I think...) Again, I promise you there will be no maincharacterxOC, so if you were looking for that, you might wish to turn back now. If not, then great! I hope you enjoy your stay XD**

**Japanese words are taken from google translate. If I make any mistakes with anything, don't hesitate to let me know.**

**Death Note= Total and utter awesomeness that isn't mine.**

**Chapter One: Confrontations**

* * *

"Muuum! Five more minutes! Pleeease?" Sayu whined, tilting her head to one side, wide eyes begging Sachiko to relent. Light felt the smallest of smiles tug at his mouth, grateful that the darkness of night hid him so well. After all, it would have been quite awkward if he had had to explain why he was sitting on a lamp-post, watching the tiny family through the window of their front room.

Sayu hadn't changed, even after five years. Well, Light supposed that she was taller now, and her face was somewhat different, and her voice had changed, but her personality really hadn't altered from that of the adorable nine-year-old little sister he had left behind. Light knew that she would still cry herself to sleep sometimes, or that she would wake from a nightmare screaming for her big brother. Light knew that she wrote letters addressed to him that she kept locked in her desk, and that every night she prayed for him.

Sometimes, Light would stand on the balcony outside her room, one hand pressed against the glass door, and wish that he was able to enter the house without having to first gain permission. There was no way he could ever contact his family, Light knew that logically, yet he would return here at least once a week, his more masochistic side winning out over the slightly more logical side of him.

Still, no use crying over spilt blood, as Kietheren would say. A slightly morbid expression, but the sentiment was there, and Light appreciated that. What had happened had happened, and Light just needed to continue to make the best of his situation.

"Why must you insist on torturing yourself in this way, _kodomo_?" A soft voice to his right made Light look up just in time to see a slender figure clad all in black leap up onto the streetlamp next to him, long satin and leather dress falling in delicate folds around her, wide blue eyes resting on Light.

"That's none of your business, Ienipa," Light said scornfully, jumping down from his perch and dusting off his immaculate black silk shirt. Ienipa merely tilted her head to one side like a curious cat, sightless eyes fixed on Light's face with unnerving accuracy.

"On the contrary, _kodomo_, I believe it _is_ my business. I may be blood-sucking monster, but I do have feelings, and I do care about you. It saddens me to know that you're like this," Ienipa said earnestly, her wide azure eyes pleading with Light, begging him to believe her. Truthfully, he did believe her – he had often thought that she was ill-suited to life as a vampire. She was too kind, too compassionate; he could only imagine how difficult things must have been for her when she was still a newlymade, and unable to stop herself killing her victims.

"I'm fine, Ienipa. Why are you here?" Light asked, watching her step gracefully off of the streetlamp, floor-length dress and long coat billowing around her before she landed silently on the concrete pavement – quite an achievement considering the six-inch stilettos she was wearing.

"Kietheren asked me to tell you that he's going hunting this night accompanied by Warui, Akuma, Yoru, Wicked and I, and we would be honoured if you deigned to join us," she said, her voice betraying not the slightest hint of offense at his abrupt subject-change. Light snorted disbelievingly, certain that Ienipa had paraphrased that request extensively; there was no way that Kietheren would be so polite.

"Where're you going?"Light asked, though his mind was mostly made up already. He wasn't so stupid as to turn Kietheren down – he wasn't suicidal.

"Not far; I doubt we'll be leaving Tokyo," she assured him. Light nodded thoughtfully – it _had_ been almost a year since he had seen his friends, and he did miss them somewhat, even if they _did_ scare the crap out of him at times.

"Alright, I'll come with you," Light agreed, feigning reluctance, though he doubted that he fooled Ienipa for even a second. She had many millennia's worth of practice in reading people's voices, after all. "But I'm curious; how did you know I was going to be here?" Ienipa smiled bashfully, and tossed something to him.

"I picked this up, and saw myself giving it to you here, and you giving it to another elsewhere. So, I bought it and rushed here to give it to you, though why you would need or want to give it to someone, I can't fathom." Light turned the small hand mirror over, staring in shock at his reflection – his eyes glowed red and his sharp, fang-like canines curved over his bottom lip. The mirror showed his true reflection, unlike most.

"Who did you see me giving this to?" Light asked curiously, studying the ornate little mirror carefully. Ienipa bit her lip uneasily, glancing away, though the motion was rather wasted considering that she couldn't see him anyway.

"I'm not sure, the image was so hazy. I just thought that it might be important, and knew that I had to buy it. Consider it my present to you, as an apology for missing your birthday last year."

"Thank you, Ienipa," Light said, bowing to her, though the motion was somewhat wasted on the blind girl.

"You're quite welcome, _kodomo_. Now then, why don't I take you to the others?"

* * *

_Light fell asleep waiting for his funeral to finish, and when he awoke, he began to wonder idly if that was where the myth of 'sleeping in coffins' had originated._

_Lying still, nestled among the silken sheets, dressed in an immaculate suit, Light experienced a whole new level of boredom that he had never before imagined could exist. He huffed quietly, new eyes picking out all of the tiny flaws in the glossy lid of his coffin, wondering when Wicked was going to get her act together and come dig him up. In fact... ah! That sounded like her, now!_

_Light could hear the dirt being shovelled directly above him, far quicker than what should have been possible._

"_Can't you go any faster? It's a little cramped in here," Light called sarcastically, and heard a snort from somewhere above._

"_If you talk to me like that again, I'm gonna leave you down there. Just 'cause Wicked changed you, doesn't mean I won't kick your arse from here to next Tuesday," the voice was distinctly male, deep and rough, and Light froze at the sound of it._

"_Sorry about him," Wicked's voice was amused and not apologetic in the slightest, but Light supposed that he couldn't really blame her. Besides, he had just heard something strike the lid of his coffin, so he couldn't complain. The boy was a quick worker, Light would give him that. The lid of his coffin was ripped off, and Light was confronted by a manic grin plastered on the face of a boy who appeared only a couple of years older than Light himself._

_The boy laughed wildly, throwing his head back and screaming "It's alive!" Strands of blue-black hair fell across his face, tanned skin gleaming in the moonlight. Wicked extended a pale, tattooed hand, and Light took it gratefully, allowing her to pull him out of the coffin with surprising strength. The boy – shirtless beneath his long leather coat, Light was horrified to notice – immediately closed the coffin and began filling the grave once again._

_Light's stomach was aching, his head pounded, and his throat was on fire – he could hardly see, and it took all of his willpower to focus on Wicked standing in front of him. She didn't let go of his hand, dragging him away from the boy – Kietheren, his mind supplied, finally able to make sense of the characters floating above the boy's head – and towards the rest of the city._

_The streets were quiet, surprisingly so, and Light raced after the crazy girl (_no, vampire, _a soft voice whispered in the back of his mind) hardly noticing when he followed her up to the rooftops, leaping lightly across the gaps as easily as he had jumped over puddles in the park with Sayu._

_Sayu._

_Light stopped, tugging his hand out of Wicked's grasp, spinning around and sprinting in the other direction. He barely heard her shocked gasp, didn't notice that she immediately took off after him. His thoughts were focused solely on his family. A white blur sped in front of him, and Light skidded to a sudden halt, stunned by Wicked's reappearance. _

"_Not yet, Light Yagami. First, you must feed, or you risk massacring your family. Is that what you really want? Hm? Is it, Light Yagami?" Light looked at the vampire standing before him with wide, horror-struck eyes._

"_Now, come with me, and we can find you someone more suitable to feed from."_

* * *

"Yo! Light-o!" Crowed a familiar voice, and Light grinned at the sound of his friend's shout. He could clearly see the group, even in the weak moonlight that was the only illumination in the small alley Ienipa had taken him to.

The entire small coven was there – Wicked, with her distinctive white eyes and silver hair; Kietheren, with his manic grin and cat-like pupils; Akuma, with her painted-black lips and fire-engine-red hair; Yoru, with his multiple facial piercings and obsession with eyeliner; Warui, with his shaved head and twisting facial tattoos; and of course, Ienipa, with her sightless blue eyes and silky blonde hair.

Light knew that these people were the closest thing he had to a family now, now that he could no longer be one of the living. His smile broadened as he hugged Kietheren, clapping him on the back, clasping Warui and Yoru's hands, kissing Akuma on both cheeks and wrapping Wicked in a death-grip of a hug.

"Why haven't you been visiting us lately?" Akuma demanded as soon as pleasantries were out of the way. "We were worried there would be another two-year gap between your visits!" She complained, and Wicked shot the over-the-top vampire an admonishing look, turning to give Light a mildly apologetic glance.

"We've missed you, Light Yagami," Wicked smiled, calling him by his full name as was her wont. Her white eyes sparkled in the dim light, and Kietheren's exultant laughter echoed around them.

"Yeah, life's boring without you! I don't even have anyone to plot with when you're gone," Kietheren lamented.

"And no one can play chess as well as you do," groaned Yoru, turning to glare at Akuma, Warui and Ienipa, who grinned unrepentantly.

"Plus you make the most _divine_ cocktails," Akuma sighed happily, her eyes dreamy. Light laughed and rolled his eyes, remembering all too well Akuma's fascination with blood mixed with alcohol.

"Yeah, yeah. Where are we heading?" Light asked, effectively turning the conversation away from himself. After so many months, Light had almost forgotten how much he enjoyed being in the company of other vampires. People whom he didn't have to pretend around, who understood him and his needs, his _desires_.

"There's a new bar downtown. Word has it that some of the worst criminals are down there; murderers, assassins, members of the yakuza, you name it. I reckon we'll be able to find someone there," Warui smirked, remembering that Light didn't like to hunt innocents, in case he lost his control.

Light sighed and waved a vague hand. "Lead on, then," he said.

* * *

"_Wicked! What the hell were you thinking?" A voice pierced the silence of the dark foyer, and Wicked winced slightly at the deep voice. Light didn't recognise this voice, so he assumed that it wasn't Kietheren, the boy from before._

"_Please, calm yourself, Warui. I was careful, no one suspects a thing, I promise you that, and I ensured that there were no witnesses."_

"_Like hell you did! Do you know how much publicity this kid's death's got? Everyone'll be able to recognise him! Hell, he won't even be able to go outside without someone spotting him and shrieking 'hey, that's the dead kid!'"_

"_Damn it, Warui, shut it! Trying to watch TV over here!" Kietheren's voice floated through the hallways. "'Sides, the kid's alright. Proud, arrogant, confident, narcissistic and bloody smart, but alright." Light raised an eyebrow at Kietheren's – correct – assessment of his personality._

"_How did he know that?" Light asked Wicked curiously._

"_It's a gift of his. Kietheren is the greatest judge of character I have ever known – he can confidently and correctly assess any person after meeting them only once, even for only a few seconds. Once Kietheren sees a person's eyes, he knows them better than anyone – even better than they know themselves. It is part of what makes him such a formidable opponent," Wicked explained calmly, leading Light through the beautiful corridors. The beauty was dark – paintings and sculptures depicting fallen angels, black flowers, skulls entwined with vines; the rooms were lit, not by electricity, but by candles and gas lamps. The mansion itself was a very gothic, western-style building, spectacular yet hidden from prying eyes. Light had had no idea that such a building existed in the centre of Tokyo._

_Eventually, they came to what Light assumed to be the main lounge – the furniture was dark crimson and mahogany, and Light found his gaze drawn to the fabulous crystal chandelier that hung above their heads._

_Two girls and one boy lounged idly on the leather chairs; one of the girls was blonde and blue-eyed, small and delicate, wearing a floor-length velvet gown that looked beautiful but couldn't have any practical use, whilst the other girl was a complete opposite – flame-red hair and piercing green eyes, she dressed in tight-fitting leather trousers, a vest-top and netting. Lots of netting. Sleeves, gloves, even a belt made of netting. The boy, on the other hand, was dressed in a black and silver military-style uniform, and had eyes outlined in black along with multiple facial piercings. Light raised an eyebrow at their... extravagant appearances. _

"_Light Yagami, I would like you to meet my friends, Ienipa, Akuma and Yoru. They too are vampires, and I hope that you will get along with them, for it would be most upsetting if my friends fought amongst one another," Wicked said, smiling softly as she pointed out each one in turn. Ienipa – a foreign name, Light was sure. As for the other two... Akuma, demon and Yoru, night. _

_A single strand of hair escaped from Ienpia's sleek chignon, and fell across her face as she turned towards Light, blue eyes curious yet unfocused. Her eyes glowed red, suddenly focusing on Light's face, and Light took a step back, making the others laugh._

"_Moon night god? Such a poetic name," she murmured, and Light realised that she was using what Wicked had called 'death eyes'. It seemed that her hunting instinct could overcome her blindness._

"_Yes, yes, yes, very nice, did you know that you were going to die three days from now in a hold up at a bank?" Akuma butted in eagerly. Light felt a shiver pass through him at the girl's declaration._

"_Don't scare the poor boy away, Akuma," Yoru said softly. "Your gift may not be a particularly pleasant one, but there's no need to share it with the rest of us." Light turned to Wicked for answers._

"_Akuma can see the death of a person – whilst all vampires see the name of a person, and the date and time that person will die, Akuma receives visions of the method. It is unpleasant, but unavoidable."_

"_I see... you all have gifts, then, not just Kietheren and Akuma?"_

"_Indeed – with physical contact, Ienipa can see visions of people, places and objects – past, present or future, sometimes a combination of the three. Yoru is a master of stealth – you will never know of his presence unless he wishes it. Warui knows immediately a person's deepest desires and fears, and thus can use that to manipulate them. I myself am most adept with illusions and dreams – out-of-body experiences, visions; I can make a person see whatever I want them to see."_

"_Useful," Light commented, masking his slight – but very real – unease._

"_Indeed," Wicked agreed, her teeth flashing as she grinned quickly. _

"_So how do I know if what I'm seeing is real, or just an illusion you created?" Light asked, and everyone in the house laughed at his question._

"_You don't," Wicked replied, her smile morphing into something that was better described as a smirk. "Not until it's too late."_

* * *

**_Kodomo = _child  
Warui = evil  
Akuma = demon  
Yoru = night**

**Also, though I forgot to mention this earlier, the title 'Sempiterma Nox' is latin for 'eternal night'. A somewhat obvious vampire reference there XD**


	3. Dealings

**'Alas!' I hear you cry. 'Another chapter! Can it be?' Yes. Yes it can. *Gasp* In this chapter, we meet L *dances the happy dance*. That's right. Today is the day we get to meet the greatest detective............... *deep breath* In the world. Yeah, too much Top Gear, methinks :P**

**Death Note = Totally not mine. Would have been filled with epic BL if it were mine. So clearly it's not.**

**Chapter 2: Dealings**

* * *

"There," Kietheren said eagerly, indicating the building next to them. Light nodded slightly, gaze focusing easily on the neon lights and various... customers that loitered outside, shifting when he realised that the people below might be able to see his current position on the roof if they happened to glance up. Though the night was quite dark, the glow of moonlight and electric street lights might have been enough for a human to pick him out.

"Dibs," muttered Warui, indicating one of the men who had just left the bar – he was supposed to die in two days time, Light saw, and he recognised him as one of the men who had taken part in a hostage situation a couple of weeks ago; three children had been shot before the man had managed to escape. Light remembered feeling sick as he watched the story on the news, and nodded slightly. Warui had chosen well.

"You little shit! Fine, but I get that one," Kietheren grumbled, pointing out the man next to Warui's victim, who was destined to die in a week. He looked terrifying, thought he would be no match for a vampire, and Light vaguely recognised him as one of the better-known drug dealers in the area. Light smiled his approval, though Kietheren wouldn't care about that.

"Mine, I think," Akuma murmured, spotting a young woman whose numbers showed that she would not live to see tomorrow. Though it made him feel slightly ill, Light knew that vampires had nothing to do with natural life spans – that woman would die tonight, whether or not Akuma chose to interfere.

"Hm, I quite like the scent of her," Yoru said, eyes focused on a woman in her late twenties, standing amongst a gaggle of men, calmly smoking a cigarette, and Light wrinkled his nose – she smelled of tobacco smoke. How could Yoru find that appealing?

"Weirdo," Kietheren commented calmly, his eyes never leaving his prey. Slowly, his lips curved into his trademark manic smile, eyes a disturbing shade of scarlet. "Greedy, arrogant, ruthless with slight sociopathic tendencies," he muttered to himself, profiling the man he was going to hunt.

"I think I'll have to choose him," Ienipa mused, her vibrant crimson eyes no longer as startling to Light as they had once been. Using her death eyes was the only way the blind girl could see, and Light wasn't going to take that opportunity from her just because he didn't like the colour of her eyes. He followed her gaze, his eyes landing on a balding, middle-aged man who smelt like frying bacon. He would die in eight days.

"What about you, Wicked? Light?" Akuma asked curiously, tilting her head and surveying them with wide eyes. Light stared down at the small crowd of humans on the street below, waiting for one of them to capture his attention.

"I think I'll have to decline tonight," Wicked decided, her white eyes utterly disinterested. Immediately the others began to protest, but she held up a hand to silence them. "Not much time has passed since I last fed, and I find that I have no hunger tonight. I will observe for now."

"As you wish," Ienipa said, as she seemed to be the only one capable of speaking – the others stared at Wicked with undisguised horror.

"Him," Light said suddenly, jerking the others out of their staring match. Takuo Shibuimaru, a well-known serial rapist and murderer who had so far managed to evade capture by the police; Light would put an end to that. The man was destined to die soon enough anyway, so even if Light didn't kill him, he could always deliver the vermin anonymously to the police, as he had done many times before.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen," Akuma said suddenly. "Half of these people are going to die in a police raid later tonight, so you've got 'til midnight. Good luck!"

* * *

_Red hands, red handprints on the wall, red lips, red eyes, red, red, red, blood everywhere, Light was drowning in blood, he couldn't escape it, it was choking him..._

_He awoke gasping, twisted and tangled in his blankets .The silk was soft against sensitive skin, but it didn't help. Light took several deep, calming breaths, mopping the sweat from his forehead. His torso was drenched, so he carefully extricated himself from the mess of blankets heaped on the bed around him, padding to his en-suite bathroom to find a towel. He would have a shower and clean himself properly in the evening, after the others had awoken from their day of sleep._

_Whilst the mansion at which he currently resided was very beautiful and luxurious, Light found that his room only served to remind him of what he had become. The crimson sheets; the painting of the fallen angel with red eyes; even the wardrobe which had been so kindly stocked by Ienipa, who had accidently touched one of the doors in the house and seen his impending arrival. Unfortunately, though she had seen him and had been able to guess his size, she knew nothing about his dress sense, so she had based her decisions on Kietheren, Warui and Yoru's taste in clothes. Flamboyant and gothic, not his style at all. _

"_Are you alright, Light Yagami?" Wicked asked softly from the doorway, and Light spun around, startled at her sudden appearance. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed her standing there._

"_I'm fine," he muttered, turning back to search for the towel. _

"_Hm. Not according to your thoughts, you aren't," she commented casually. "Towels are in the bottom-left drawer," she added as an afterthought._

"_So now you can hear thoughts? Why didn't you share this little gem with me earlier?" Light asked bitterly, having already lost his ability to be surprised at anything this girl said._

"_The connection is only faint now, and will weaken quickly – soon I will only sense you when you are in great danger, but the bond between the creator and the creation will always remain, Light Yagami, no matter how hard you struggle against it. I suggest that you do not bother."_

"_Thanks for the advice," Light remarked dryly, unsure as to how he would even go about breaking such a 'bond' in the first place._

"_Anytime, Light Yagami," Wicked said, her lips curling into that strange, feral grin. "Anytime."_

* * *

Light watched the human Takuo from his spot in the shadows, eyes tracking every movement the man made. He was cutting it close; there were only minutes left before the police were due to arrive, according to Ienipa and Akuma. Still, Light was confident in his abilities, and for him, the time limit was no issue.

The others were already almost finished, but Light was sure that they wouldn't wait for him here, instead choosing to return to their home to wait for him.

Deciding eventually that it had been far too long since he had 'exercised' his gift, Light strode forward from the darkness that had been hiding him, deliberately allowing his feet to make some noise against the concrete, in order to attract his prey's attention. As expected, Takuo Shibuimaru turned around at the sound, his eyes widening comically as he spotted Light, who sympathised with the man. All that this foolish human saw was a remarkably attractive, well-dressed seventeen-year-old. A remarkably attractive, well-dressed seventeen-year-old with glowing red eyes.

"W-who are you?" Takuo asked, and to a human, his voice would have sounded remarkably steady; Light could hear it tremble in fear and awe. He smirked, walking forwards with the easy grace of the undead, coming to a stop only inches away from the man, who was trapped in the young vampire's gaze, utterly helpless. That was nothing unique, though, as every vampire had such mesmerising eyes.

"You will not struggle, nor will you make any sound that might alert passers-by," Light murmured in the human's ear, and he felt the disgusting creature shiver.

"I will not struggle or make a sound," Takuo muttered obediently, eyes glazed and unfocused.

"Good," Light smirked, and leant forward, pushing his prey further into the alley, lips going to the man's throat, as though they were the opposite poles of a magnet.

Light felt the gateway in his mind burst, and all rational thought flew from his head, leaving behind only his hunting instinct. Teeth like needles pierced the soft flesh, and Light relished in the sensation. Blood oozed from the wound, and he lapped at it like a dog might lap at water, the blood flowing faster and thicker, warm and rich down his throat. The taste was unbelievable after so long without feeding, without _tasting_, and Light's eyes rolled back into his head slightly as the flavour utterly overwhelmed him.

Eventually, however, it had to end. Light felt the faint connection that his feeding formed with the human growing stronger, and he drew back abruptly, unwilling to form any kind of bond with this man. Thankfully, the weak mental link snapped the instant Light regained control of himself, his eyes fading to their usual honey-brown, teeth retracting once again to their natural size. Sighing slightly, he carefully stabbed his thumb with a fingernail, smearing his blood over the small wound in the man's neck, watching as the skin knitted back together, both on the human and on the pad of his thumb.

Wiping all traces of blood carefully off of the man, Light took advantage of his temporary stupor to lean forward, his manipulative ability even stronger now that the human's mind was weaker.

"Forget me," he breathed in Takuo's ear, before knocking the man unconscious. He slumped forward into Light's arms, and the young vampire sighed, hoisting the man into his arms and carrying him closer to the entrance of the bar. Pulling a pair of silken gloves from his pocket, Light slipped them on, before fishing out a pen and a piece of paper, and scrawling a quick note to the police that he tucked into Takuo's front breast pocket. Satisfied with his work, Light spun around and leapt up onto the neighbouring roof in one bound, settling in to watch the show.

* * *

_Light couldn't stay here, not any longer. The frequent dreams, the constant reminders, it was all too much. Besides, Light had never been a social person – he had been described as sociopathic on more than one occasion, and it seemed to be Kietheren's new favourite way to describe him. A person like Light just couldn't take living with six others. There was so little privacy, and no time when everything was quiet, and Light could just relax on his own and _think_. There was always an argument, or someone watching TV, or playing an instrument, or listening to the radio – it never stopped. Light had to leave, and he had to leave _now_._

_Though he had not seen or spoken to any of the others all day, he was reasonably certain that they must know what he was planning to do – no doubt they had heard him packing, and had noticed the way he had been researching nearby universities and houses. Not to mention the way their bank account had suddenly lost a suspicious amount of yen that was almost exactly equal to the price of an apartment he had been eyeing the other day. _

_Sighing, Light swung his bag onto his back, planning to come and collect any other belongings he might have forgotten later on. He pushed the door open, only to be greeted by six unnervingly calm faces. Though they all seemed to be quite tranquil, Light didn't trust them; the calm could easily be a facade. Light gulped anxiously, waiting for one of them to explode on him and start yelling, but it didn't happen. _

_Though, despite the fact that he had been braced for shouting, Light couldn't manage to stop himself from jumping when Kietheren threw his head back suddenly and burst into fits of crowing laughter. _

"_What? You thought we'd be angry?" He gasped in between his hysterics. "Come on, Light you dipshit, we knew you'd have to leave eventually! Light Yagami, smartest idiot I ever knew!" Kietheren stopped laughing suddenly, his face thoughtful. "Or should that be dumbest genius?" He mused quietly._

"_It matters not what you think of Light Yagami's intelligence," Wicked admonished softly, before turning to Light, one eyebrow raised. "We are not angry with you, Light Yagami; on the contrary, we are pleased that you have seen the necessity of separating before we have a chance to attract suspicion. It is most common for young vampires to crave solitude, regardless, and we understand your need for peace from us."_

"_But if you're gonna go, you'll have to come visit us sometime!" Akuma insisted brightly. "I've never tasted a better Bloody Mary," she added fondly, her thoughts clearly turning to her favoured cocktail; Light had named it jokingly, thoroughly appreciating the play on words. Ienipa stepped forward to hug him, breaking him from his thoughts._

"_I'll miss you, _kodomo_. Please, come and visit us at any time – you will always be welcomed here," she assured him, blue eyes only a few inches from meeting his own gaze._

"_Of course I will come back sometime," Light told them all, meeting each of their eyes in turn. Wicked looked disinterested; Kietheren was grinning, a strange glint in his eyes; Akuma looked hopeful; Yoru had a soft, sad smile on his face; Warui looked contented, having never quite managed to warm up to the 'outsider'; and Ienipa seemed upset that Light would be leaving._

"_Let us know if you need anything, won't you?" Yoru requested politely. Warui didn't seem to share the sentiment, but he was always polite and cordial outwardly, so he said nothing, whilst the others nodded with varying degrees of enthusiasm._

"_But of course!" Light laughed. "I think I'll probably manage alright though. I'll see you all soon, okay?" _

_Light left the house with every intention of keeping his promises. It was two years before he would see his friends again._

* * *

Matsuda waited impatiently in the bar, feeling highly uncomfortable surrounded by so many well-known criminals. The receiver in his ear buzzed faintly, and he had stop himself from glancing around nervously; that would give him away, if nothing else did. His foot tapped rhythmically against the linoleum floor, and he couldn't prevent himself from checking his watch a couple of times a minute.

The doors burst open, and immediately the place was in chaos – Matsuda pulled out his gun and began picking off the criminals who were trying to escape, one by one; he had always been an exceptional shot, one of his very few redeeming abilities. That along with his uncanny ability to create the perfect cup of coffee.

Matsuda was breathing hard by the end of the police raid, the adrenaline still shooting through his system. Now that his role was over, Matsuda could step outside for a minute to calm down, leaving the 'real' work to the higher-ups.

Standing outside in the bitter chill, Matsuda shivered as he felt the first kiss of the rain against his cheeks. Chief Yagami was inside, putting himself in danger again, almost as though he was _trying_ to get himself killed. Five years had passed, and the chief still hadn't forgiven himself for the death of his son, Matsuda thought sadly. Worse than that, though, the case had quickly gone cold. The killer didn't strike again, and with no evidence, there was really nothing anyone could do. The chief had been unwilling to accept that, however, and had continued to privately investigate Light's murder whilst he had been moved onto other cases at work.

Matsuda sighed, shifting his weight slightly as the rain started to pick up a bit, soaking through his thin jacket. Strangely, he couldn't shake a feeling of paranoia, as though he was being watched. He looked up at the roof and froze. A pair of eyes, glowing faintly red in the darkness, locked with his own, and Matsuda felt trapped by the piercing gaze. After standing completely still for a few seconds, Matsuda felt a seductive voice whisper into his mind.

_Look away. Tell no-one about me,_ the voice murmured, and Matsuda found himself obeying without question. He averted his eyes back towards the floor of the alley, his mind going blank for a few moments.

Glancing up and down the alleyway, Matsuda spotted a strange bundle only a few yards away. On closer inspection, Matsuda realised that the bundle was... human shaped, and _moving_. Breathing.

Rushing up, Matsuda turned the man over, crying out and promptly dropping the man when he saw his face. He _recognised_ this man. Takuo Shibuimaru, he had been in the news several times recently, though he had previously evaded capture. Now he was right here, tied up with what appeared to be his own tie.

Spotting something peeking out over the top of Takuo's pocket, Matsuda reached forward; pulling out the small piece of paper and briefly examining it, he leapt up with a cry of shock, running back into the bar, piece of paper fluttering from where it was trapped in his hand.

He had to tell the chief about this. Matsuda ran back inside, all thoughts of the eyes on the roof flying from his mind.

* * *

"_L? Do you have a moment?"_ Watari's scrambled voice echoed through the small hotel room, and L turned away from the TV, where he had been happily watching a Japanese news channel report on the hugely successful police raid he had organised. At least thirty major criminals were either captured or dead, along with a further ten minor criminals – it was more than L could have possibly hoped for, though no more than he had truly expected. Still watching the screen with calculating eyes, switching the volume to mute, L replied.

"Go ahead, Watari." L never took his eyes off of the screen.

"_I have just received an interesting report from the NPA... It seems that C has struck again, only this time, he left something behind." _L immediately turned his full attention to the computer, excitement flaring within him. 'C', 'Cross', 'Catcher' – the infamous freelance detective had been given so many names amongst the police forces of the world that he had even merited his own letter, a privilege that had previously been L's alone. Though the media and general public knew nothing of him, C had quickly gained notoriety among several law-enforcement agencies worldwide.

He would leave criminals bound outside of police stations to be found the next morning, always unconscious, with a scrap of old-fashioned parchment decorated only by an ornate gothic cross. Sometimes the criminal was already known and wanted by the police, other times not, but so far C had yet to leave any evidence, any clues as to his identity. There were no traces of DNA, and though the mysterious captures were most frequent in Japan, they had been taking place all over the world for almost five years now. L was getting frustrated; he had made this man his own personal challenge, something to obsess over between cases, yet he could find nothing! The great L was completely stumped!

This could be it. This could be the chance he had been waiting for, all of these years, the chance to get one-up on C!

Admittedly, L had been overjoyed when C had started out. Here was someone who was clearly intelligent, and shared L's wish for justice, someone who had seemingly limitless resources; someone who may even be on L's level. It seemed likely that he had access to police information, though L did not bother to try to figure out how - he enjoyed watching C make his way in the law-enforecement world far too much for something like that.

L was hopeful that C could one day become great; he had plenty of potential to become the next L. A had committed suicide; B was criminally insane; perhaps C would succeed where the others had failed. He may not have been a Wammy student, but he was clearly very capable. If there were only a way for L to contact him...

"Please send me the report and anything else you may have," L requested eagerly, eyes fixed on his computer screen, tapping his fingers impatiently against his knees whilst he waited for the files to load.

A few minutes later, and L was staring the screen, utterly dumbstruck. To think that C would leave such a... taunting letter. The writing was in printed in neat English, the font heavy and gothic, almost reminding L of his own logo. Though this letter was clearly handwritten, Watari had confirmed that tests run on the ink were inconclusive as always. Reading through it once again, L felt a frown crease his forehead at the harsh wording.

_Lord, did it really take you so long to find and catch this guy? I found him after one try! I can only conclude that you  
do not really know what you are doing. Such a pity, as I always had such high hopes for the police.  
You really are such a disappointment. If only you could see the world through my eyes! Life would be much simpler, I  
know. Never mind. Until we meet again, I suppose._

The letter had been signed with the characteristic cross, and L felt an irrational surge of anger swell through him, almost as though he had been... betrayed? How could he feel betrayed by someone he had never met, someone he didn't even know? He supposed, looking at it from an objective point of view, it did make some sense. For someone L had respected so thoroughly to turn out to be so vain and harsh – bordering on narcissistic. Yet there was something off, something that L couldn't quite put his finger on...

The layout! The way the letter had been written! Not only had it been written in English, but several times, C had started a new row when there was clearly no need to do so. Glancing down at it, L felt his hope and excitement grow once more.

_L, do you know..._

"Watari, keep me updated on C. Let me know if he leaves any more notes, or does anything out of character."

"_Understood,"_ was the reply, and L sat back with a contented smirk on his face. So, C wanted to play a game, did he? Well, L would join in with his childish activities, but in the end, they would see who was laughing. In that moment, L made a mental deal with C. From that moment on, they would both be playing this crazy game, in which no-one knew the rules. Neither would play fair, but they would both play nonetheless. After all, L hated to lose.

The deal was struck.

* * *

**Reading that last paragraph or so can only mean one thing - you've just lost THE GAME!! Teehee... XD Okay, now that that's off of my chest, I would quite like some feedback from all of you guys out there currntly bothering to read this AN. What would you like to see in the upcoming chapters? Background info on vampires, more of Light's games with L (not that way, you pervs) some more of Light's interactions with other vampires, maybe even the addition of various canon Death Note characters (Mello the vampire slayer XD) **

**Come on, I'm counting on you guys and your reviews. So click that shiny green button right there and... oooo, shinyyyyy.**


	4. Pursuit

**Oh yes my peeps, another chapter. Yes, yes, yes, I know there was a slight delay, but I had to type this one from scratch, so I don't think I did too bad, all things considered. And no, you don't see the end of the note in this chapter... sorry. Can anybody hazard a guess as to what it might be?**

**Death Note = Come on, you guys. If Death Note was mine, L wouldn't have died, and he and Light would have had gorgeous genius babies together, no matter how biologically impossible that might be... okay, maybe not. But Death Note still isn't mine.**

**Chapter 3: Pursuit**

* * *

That had been _way_ too close. Light shrank back on the rooftop, watching Matsuda sprint back inside, calling for Light's father. The boy, the _human_ had seen him, almost ruining his fun – Light was lucky in that the man's mind was still young and impressionable; easy to enter and manipulate.

Light hoped that L would like his little message and present; having hacked into several law-enforcement agencies to read reports on his activities and listen in to Interpol meetings, Light knew that he had attracted the attention of the great detective. It was immensely flattering, but hardly surprising, as Light knew that he could remain one step ahead of any human he came up against. Nevertheless, Light was slightly disappointed that L had not even come close to finding 'C'.

Bizarrely, he had expected more of the world-renowned detective. Still, he supposed that he could not blame the man; he was, after all, only human. Unlike Light, who was so much more.

Light knew that his note was somewhat offensive, but he didn't care. These people were humans, and if they were offended by the simple truth, well... that certainly wasn't Light's problem. It was likely that he would never have to meet the people he had offended – not as C, anyway – and as for L... Light was certain that he would find the message without any problems. After all, he was perhaps one of the greatest minds humanity had ever known. _Though, that might have been debatable, had I been given a chance to become known by humanity_, Light thought arrogantly, watching Matsuda emerge from the dark doorway, Soichiro in tow.

A small smirk curled on his lips as he watched the two of them cart the deplorable human away, a feeling of extreme satisfaction creeping through his veins. How he detested humans like that. Whilst it was true that humans were naturally selfish, violent creatures, seeing one that had fallen so low no longer had the ability to stir pity within him; instead, he felt only contempt.

However, he had to admit that if it was true that all humans were selfish, arrogant, violent, deceiving creatures, then Light found that he was also forced to acknowledge that vampires were even more so. No matter how much Light liked to think of himself as the exception to the rule, he knew that he was the same as all others of his kind. It was not something that he enjoyed dwelling upon, but it was something that he admitted to himself nonetheless, because he felt that the only person he could be completely honest with anymore was himself.

Sighing quietly, Light glared at the sky which, in a few hours, would begin to lighten, forcing him to once again retreat indoors. He supposed that he could remain outside if he so wished, but he would have to stay out of the sun's direct rays – though his reaction wouldn't be quite as dramatic as catching fire and turning to ash, it still wasn't a pleasant experience. For him _or _the spectators.

Light remained on the rooftop until the last of the criminals had been dragged away, and the last policeman had finished on the scene – he had left it too long, and had so little darkness left. He would have to run like the wind to get back to the glorious safety of his apartment. It was rare that anyone would be about at this hour; at least, rare that anyone out at this hour would be watching the rooftops. Light could use that to his advantage.

Ten feet, twenty feet; the gaps between the buildings were nothing, and he sailed over the roofs, turning a few somersaults as he went, confident in his own abilities. An insane laugh – worthy of Kietheren – bubbled in his throat, the wind buffeting his face, the force never quite enough to slow him down. His hair whipped around his head, creating a dark honey-brown halo; a demon with the face of an angel.

Though he rarely bothered to glance at the terrain he covered, never once did his footsteps falter or pause. Light knew his way across the city of Tokyo like he knew the back of his hand, both from the ground, and from the vantage point of the rooftops.

Racing past one of the more extravagant hotels in the area he was currently speeding through, something caught Light's eye, and he paused midstride, swinging around and quickly crouching down to make himself less noticeable to any humans who happened to be watching the skyline for whatever reason.

Peering curiously through the miniscule gaps in the blinds, Light's eyes automatically focused on the dark figure he could just about make out from this distance. The man – for Light was almost certain that this person was male – appeared to be crouched in front of a television screen, curled up in a luxurious armchair with the table in front of him covered in dishes of some kind of food – Light couldn't make it out from this distance, even with his superior eyesight. Yet none of that was what had distracted Light so thoroughly.

It was the laptop, the screen tilted at a somewhat awkward angle from Light's perspective, though he supposed that it would have been fine for the man crouched before it. The screen was blank, pure white besides the single gothic 'W' in the centre of the screen.

The font was one well-known, both to Light and to the majority of the world's population. It was L's font of choice, and this W on the screen... It did not take any great intelligence to figure out that this must be Watari, L's proxy. Light grinned, tilting his head to one side, utterly ignoring the fact that the sun was only mere minutes away from rising, and the fact that he was in plain view to almost anyone who happened to look out of the window. Yeah, as if anyone would do so at this time of the morning...

Light froze as the young man turned his head towards the window, his dark gaze falling on Light as the sun rose above the skyscrapers behind him.

* * *

_Light's new apartment was everything he could have wished for._ _Spacious and comfortable without feeling too empty, Light knew that he had made the right decision to come here._

_Staring out of the window, the sun having just sunk below the horizon, Light felt his mind drifting back towards his family. What would they be doing now? Perhaps settling down to eat their dinner – they couldn't eat too late, as Sayu was still only young. Maybe his father would be walking in the door right now, to be greeted by two smiling faces, as Sayu attacked their father with hugs and sloppy pecks on the cheek._

_Family life had never seemed overtly important to Light; another facade he had had to maintain, to keep the illusion of the perfect son. Light had always preferred solitude, and though he did love his family dearly, he saw no reason to be completely open about it. They all knew how much he adored them, Sayu in particular._

_He doted on his baby sister, he had done from the moment he had watched her open her tiny dark eyes and begin bawling in the hospital nine years ago. Though Light had only been eight years of age, he was very mature and he knew that this new member of his small family would monopolise his parents' attention – yet that didn't bother him in the slightest. He was perfectly happy remaining in his room and being ignored by his parents for the most part, so he did not see how the arrival of the baby was going to change his life so drastically._

_Of course, he had not realised – or at least, not acknowledged – the hardships of having a little sister. The near-constant screaming in the night, the horrific sights and smells that were generally associated with young children; all were things that Light had not been expecting. After all, this was his little sister, so how could she be anything but perfect?_

_Despite all of her flaws, however, Light had never loved anyone more than he loved his kid sister. That hadn't changed as she had grown older, and Light knew that Sayu idolised him, and wanted to be 'just like nii-san'. _

_She had lost her brother at only nine years of age, and it made Light's heart ache to think of her – to think of all of his family. He would never be able to contact them again, would never even be able to enter the house, not without their permission; something that he would not be able to gain. Light had lost everything, and what had he gained? A damned life of eternal boredom, bound by an instinct and a craving he could not control. For what? The entertainment of a selfish vampire who did not know how to empathise._

_The moon looked so beautiful, bathing Light in its rays as he continued to stare out of the window. Light rested his forehead against the cool glass, his eyes prickling uncomfortably at the thoughts of his family. Angrily, he scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve, wiping away any tears that formed before they could be allowed to fall. He was a vampire now, damn it! It was about time he began acting like one._

_Still, he couldn't stop himself standing up and heading for the door, not bothering with a jacket – the air was warm tonight, and it wouldn't look too strange to see someone without a coat. He would check up on his family, to make sure that they were safe, just this once. He wouldn't allow himself to be so weak again; once he had confirmed their wellbeing, he wouldn't feel the need to do so again. They would never need to be aware of his presence, and no one would be any the wiser._

Yes,_ Light thought to himself as he stepped out into the street, his hands burying themselves in his pockets. _This is certainly the last time I'll be so weak.

* * *

L frowned slightly as he repeated the message in his head several times over, his thought processes going in endless circles.

_L do you know..._ There were many things that L knew, and many more that he didn't – though L was a genius of the highest calibre, even he acknowledged that he didn't know everything – so what could C possibly be hinting at? Was it even a hint, or just some mindless taunt designed to distract him? If that was the case, then what was it that C wished to distract him from? There were far too many variables and uncertain factors, so L decided to leave that train of thought for a moment, and focus on another.

Police had said that the criminal Takuo had been tied up for a maximum of five to ten minutes; which meant that C had to have been nearby when the police carried out their raid. Even someone born and bred in Tokyo with intricate knowledge of the back passages that spanned the city could not have run far in ten minutes. However, C had somehow managed to escape from the police's grasp effortlessly.

There was also the fact that Shibuimaru had been left in that back alley rather than in front of a police station, as per usual. That was interesting, for it implied that C had either knowledge of the raid prior to its realisation, or that the police had interrupted him in his work – L was personally leaning towards the first option, as no one had caught sight of C, as well as the fact that the letter had already been left for them to find.

If that was the case, then L was curious to know exactly how C had managed to gain such information, as the details had been kept extremely quiet; it was possible that there was a mole in the NPA, or that C was an expert hacker. Both options seemed equally likely in this instance, so L moved onto his next problem.

Exactly what to _do_ about this whole rotten situation. C had issued him a direct challenge, leaving a letter practically addressed to him; all but waving a red flag beneath his nose, crying _'Toro, toro!'_

Perhaps L was suffering from sugar-deprivation, if he was entertaining such thoughts. Nevertheless, the point still stood that L was arrogant, and now that he had been offered this opportunity, he could not simply turn away. L had never before backed down from a challenge, and he certainly didn't intend to start now.

C was a tricky one to figure out. Having left no physical evidence at the scene, L had extremely little to go on – other than the crosses, the taunting letter and the criminals themselves, there were no hints as to C's identity. L knew for a fact that C had to be a highly intelligent individual, as well as extremely resourceful to be able to pull this off, but that hardly narrowed it down. There were many intelligent people in the world who had contacts and resources, as well as the free time and the motive...

Alright, so maybe there weren't _that_ many, but the challenge would still be finding such individuals. They were spread unevenly across the globe, and tracking them down would very likely be a waste of time, money and resources. Of course, L had limitless amounts of the last two; the first... not so much. His patience wasn't limitless, either. What method would be best to pursue C quickly, easily and cost-effectively?

L sighed softly and turned to the window, where the sun was about to rise – watching the sun burst over the horizon in a beautiful explosion of light had always been one of L's favourite moments of the day. In the orphanage, he had often risen early in order to watch the first rays of light spill over the landscape like coffee would spill over a white table cloth...

Really, he had to get these cravings under control.

L froze when he caught sight of the hunched figure crouched on the rooftop opposite his window, mimicking his pose almost exactly, from what he could see through the blinds. Though very little of the figure was clear from such a distance, L had the distinct impression that the person was staring right at him; though of course, that may merely have been L's paranoia.

Behind the figure, the sun rose above the skyscrapers gracefully, elegantly, and for a moment the figure – a man, L now saw – was bathed in light, the rays surrounding him and giving him the appearance of an angel, about to be whisked away once more to Heaven. Not that L believed in such things, but the notion was a pleasant one.

That illusion was shattered when the man convulsed suddenly, clutching his head as though he was in immense pain. He staggered to his feet, and L could almost taste the fear in the air – both the man's and his own – and knew that he was powerless to do anything, even as he watched the man collapse back to the roof, flopping around like a fish out of water. The stoic, detached half of L wondered idly if the man was having some kind of fit, whilst the rest of him fretted over the man's safety, over how close he was to the edge of the roof...

L watched the man get slowly, painfully to his feet, his limbs still jerking occasionally. His footsteps were drawn out yet purposeful, carrying him towards the... edge of the...

L realised what was running through the man's mind a split second before he jumped, and as soon as the man started to topple, L was rushing out of the room, hardly pausing to stuff his feet into battered shoes, not at all worried about grabbing a coat, or anything else that may make him appear more socially acceptable.

Had he been thinking clearly, L would have realised how foolish it was to leave his room unguarded and unlocked, or to allow his face to be so easily seen by members of the public and security cameras alike – however, L wasn't thinking clearly. He had just watched a man leap to his almost-certain death, so L felt that he could be pardoned if his thinking abilities weren't quite up-to-scratch.

L all but sprinted through the hotel lobby, attracting several disapproving stares, glares and angry mutters from the staff; all of which he thoroughly ignored. Bursting through the doors, L raced across the road, barely pausing to ensure that he was not mowed down by some careless motorist. That would be an anticlimactic death indeed for the great L.

Standing on the street, L stared around in confusion, his wide eyes taking in every detail of the scene before him, as shocking as it was impossible.

The man was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Light was panting hard, his skin still prickling uncomfortably from his brief exposure to the direct sunlight. He had utterly lost control in the first few seconds of the horrific experience, his muscles acting of their own accord and jerking out of his command. Dimly, he had been aware of his body toppling to the ground, though he hadn't felt it in the slightest, his nerve endings all focused entirely upon his body's natural reaction to the sunlight. Light felt as though his skull had been cleaved in two, his vast mind spewing out to lay scattered across the rooftop, before someone incredibly sadistic began to meticulously shatter every portion of his mind with a toothpick, his skin tightening suddenly, pain rocketing through him with a white-hot burning intensity that Light was certain he wouldn't – _couldn't_ – survive.

No! He was stronger than this; this was something he _would_ get through. Dragging himself to his feet, holding his body in place with nothing more than the force of his iron will, Light staggered towards the edge of the building, his movements harsh and uncoordinated – about as far removed from his usual gliding pace as he could imagine. Such weakness was unbearably humiliating, particularly if _L_ was still watching, but there was nothing that could be done about that.

The instant he flung himself over the edge, Light was overwhelmed by a wave of relief so intense that it overcame all of his senses, and Light instinctively righted himself, landing couched on the dirty cement, disgusted by the filthy condition of the city's back alleys, yet so relieved to be once again out of the sun.

Stretching himself off, Light glanced around for some way out of this. The only way he could leave this little shadowy haven was by stepping out into the light; an experience he never wished to repeat. Rubbing his forehead, Light paced back and forth a few times, the width of the alley severely limiting his pacing capabilities.

"Think, Light, _think_," he muttered angrily. He couldn't stay here all day – someone might see him, and he did need his sleep. Ergo, he needed to get home soon, before exhaustion claimed him. He was always tired after feeding, when his stomach was full and his hunting instinct satisfied, however briefly.

Glancing up, Light was horrified to see a pale young man hurtling across the street, right towards his safe little alleyway. Snarling furiously, Light spun around, sprinting back as far as he could, to watch the actions of this bizarre dark-haired man from the safety of the inky darkness.

Light stared as the man stopped, staring around with a bemused look in his wide grey eyes. It was clear that he was searching for something, and Light had the sinking feeling that that something might be him. Worried that he might be spotted, Light pressed himself against the wall, trying desperately to ensure that he would not be noticed. He hoped that this man would leave soon, before the angle of the sun made it impossible to avoid being in the bright light. What he needed was some way out of this – Light patted his pockets, his heart lifting considerably when he found his phone. Now, if only that damned man would just _leave_.

He did leave eventually, slouching back across the road at a far slower pace than before, this time taking care to avoid the traffic that was just beginning to build. Light relaxed, sliding to the ground, for once ignoring the hygiene issues such an action might provide. Pulling out his phone, Light flipped it open, pressing one on his speed dial. The phone was picked up after it had rung once.

"Wicked is already on her way," was Ienipa's greeting, and Light didn't care that it was somewhat rude of her to not even say a friendly hello. He heard her barely stifle a yawn, and winced in sympathy. She had to be exhausted, yet she had waited patiently by the phone, knowing that he would call.

"How did you see?" Light asked quietly, uncertain as to whether anyone else was awake – it was possible that they had already fallen asleep, and Ienipa had woken only Wicked.

"I was beginning to worry about you, _kodomo_, so I picked up the phone to call you, and saw you phoning us instead. You asked for one of us to come and find you, as you had been trapped by the daylight. You should only have to wait for another five minutes or so; Wicked left quite some time ago."

"Thank you," Light muttered, before hanging up and settling in to wait. He pulled on his gloves again, and took a piece of paper from his pocket.

Now, what would he have L do?

* * *

The shinigami Ryuk glared morosely over the barren plain, eyes drinking in the familiar sight of bleached bones and crumbled buildings – all that remained of the once proud realm. He should've listened to the bloody fortune-teller and left while he had the chance. The human realm looked so much more fun these days, with all the different ways humans had thought of to kill one another.

Still, too late for that now. There was only one way to enter the human realm any more, and Ryuk had already started his preparations. Soon he would be able to go down there and finally have some entertainment; not to mention all of those delicious apples they had just _lying around_.

Ryuk ignored the cries of protest that echoed up to where he sat – sounded like someone had just lost twenty years of their lifespan in a game of Death Heads – and stood up, idly stretching his long arms above his head until he heard the joints pop, though he didn't really feel anything. He had no idea why humans made such a big fuss over little things like that.

Slowly, Ryuk began to make his way to the portal between his world and the mortal world – now, he had an excuse to go and visit the realm that was so much more interesting than his own. His wings burst through the skin of his back with a sickening – for a human, anyway – squelching sound, and Ryuk grinned.

Time to go find his notebook.

* * *

**MWAHAHAHAHA! MUAHAHAHAHAHA! KYAHAHAHAHAHAHA! What will happen now??? Keep reading and reviwing, dear readers and reviewers, and you might just find out.**

**Soo... you found out what happens to vampires in the sunlight. Okay, so they don't burn up and fall to the ground as ash, but hey, at least they don't sparkle!**


	5. Tactics

**Well, would you look at that. I updated again! Impressive, I know. I suppose I should be trying to figure out my coursework, but that can wait. It is only my GCSEs after all (sarcasm)**

**The letter?! I hear you scream. Read and find out.**

**Death Note - so not mine, it's not even funny.**

**Chapter 4: Tactics**

* * *

_Light took a deep breath of the clean country air, so very different to the thick, polluted air of Tokyo. He could almost taste the difference now that he was here, in England. The bed-and-breakfast he had been staying in was cheap and utterly disgusting, but it was cheap, and Light didn't want to dent his friends' bank account too much, not after a year and a half of separation. That wasn't fair to them._

_Light had remained in Tokyo for well over a year, but eventually claustrophobia had set in. He had remained in touch with the six others in his coven, and they had assured him that the majority of young vampires travelled a lot in the first few years of their new life. Besides, 'C' – as he had been christened – was beginning to attract attention amongst the police agencies in Japan. Light thought that it would be wise to break his habit and start afresh in a new country._

_Strolling leisurely through the small village, Light ducked quietly into the local pub to listen to the gossip of the town, mildly curious as to what humans were interested in nowadays – hell, that made him sound old. He had only been changed a mere nineteen months previous, yet already his human life seemed so far behind him._

_Light now viewed humanity as a reflection on water – so close, he could see it, yet the instant he reached out to touch it, the illusion shattered, and Light was left with nothing more than thousands of fragmented images in the ripples. The terrible part was, his memories of being human were blurry, as though viewed through different eyes – which in a way they were. Seeing through eyes of death was a strange experience, no doubt about it. The world was shaded red and warped subtly at the edges, the focus and lighting all different._

_In fact, the talk of the town seemed to be focused around one human in particular; a murderer in a nearby city that had terrified the village after killing one of its residents._

_Light smirked softly. As it happened, he had seen the man just the other night, walking through the city streets as Light searched for his next victim. The man hadn't really caught his eye, and Light had fed from an amiable young woman he had met in a supermarket and persuaded to allow Light into her home. He hadn't killed her – thankfully – but he suspected that she had had a killer headache the next morning. Not that he would know; he had left long before sunrise, so that he might arrive back at his room before daylight._

_It seemed that Light had found his next snack. He could feed three days from now, and still have plenty of time to get to London._

_After all, he didn't want to miss the parade._

* * *

It was times like these that Light wished Wicked would show at least some emotion other than sarcastic amusement or very mild anger. Such a thing was rare, and Light felt blessed whenever he was permitted to witness it; sadly, today would not be one of those days.

The car had pulled up not five minutes after Light had hung up on Ienipa, and Wicked stepped confidently into the sunlight, broad hat and umbrella combination providing sufficient shade to protect three vampires, at least. Her long silver hair glinted as light reflected from car windows fell upon it, and she had one eyebrow raised as she walked towards Light, the smallest of smirks gracing her features.

"My, what a predicament," she commented breezily, her white eyes shining with _wicked _amusement; Light thoroughly appreciated the play on words.

"Wicked, that is so unbelievably not funny, I think I might have to curl up and die," Light said sarcastically, the close proximity to the sun giving him a headache and simultaneously making him even crankier than he would have been anyway.

"Whoever suggested that it was supposed to be funny?" She asked innocently, though her eyes didn't lose their mischievous glint.

"Never mind," Light grumbled, ducking under the umbrella – really, how humiliating – as he crossed the short gap between the safety of the car and the minefield that was the street bathed in sunlight. Sliding into the passenger's side with a sigh, Light immediately began rooting around in the glove compartment, a triumphant smile flashing across his face when he pulled out a pair of sunglasses. They were somewhat redundant, as Light was hidden behind tinted glass, but he felt more secure with them on nonetheless.

Wicked started the engine, and Light relaxed back into his seat, secure in the knowledge that he was finally going back to his little piece of utopia.

"Why were you caught in the sunlight?" Wicked asked suddenly, glancing at Light out of the corners of her eyes before turning her gaze back to the road.

"You mean Ienipa didn't tell you?" Light asked incredulously. He was sure that Ienipa knew what had happened – she had probably been wandering around the house touching every object she could get her hands on to see if she could predict the conversation they would have when they next met.

"I'm not sure that she herself knew; though, she seemed most insistent that I hurried as much as possible. Perhaps she saw only that you needed help, and not the nature of your, ah, _problem_." Light ground his teeth in frustration at the mocking tone of voice that was somehow enhanced by her dispassionate expression.

"If you must know, I was leaving a message for L," he snarled, rubbing his temples in agitation.

"Ah, so you were playing at being a detective again? Are you not afraid that leaving messages might give L a clue as to your identity? He is rumoured to be the greatest detective in the world, after all," Wicked said, knowing full well that he would be angered by her statements and enjoying every second of it. _L_ – Light thought the name bitterly – would never be able to find him. He could vanish more thoroughly than a shadow; L would never find him unless he wanted to be found.

"Why in the world would L suspect me, of all people? I'm nothing more than a young freelance journalist, struggling to make my way in the dog-eat-dog world of the media, after all," Light said, his face and voice the very picture of innocence.

"I see. '_Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it'._" Wicked said, and suddenly her voice reflected exactly how old she was; her tone carried millennia of experience and wisdom, but her words made Light roll his eyes.

"Resorted to quoting Shakespeare now, have we? You know, it is entirely possible that you feel the need to stoop to stealing the words of others because you yourself lack originality of thought," Light commented, before pausing and gazing thoughtfully out of the window. "Or perhaps you just wish to show off," he mused.

"Continue to speak to me in such a manner, and I may be forced to throw you out of the car," Wicked threatened, though Light knew that she would not. Had he been anyone else, he might've taken her seriously, but he knew that she would never do anything that might harm her coven. Had she been Kietheren, on the other hand...

"So," Wicked started brightly, her previous anger apparently forgotten. "Why don't you tell me what you're planning to do with L?"

* * *

L slouched back into his hotel room, thoroughly disturbed by what he had just witnessed. The man had fallen – _jumped, _his traitorous mind whispered – from the roof of a skyscraper. His innards should have been splattered across the pavement, his body battered and broken, yet there had been no evidence of anyone ever having been there. No trace of blood, not even a footprint. Trying to find the man was like chasing a ghost.

_Like chasing C._

L shook his head in attempt to clear it of all thoughts of both the mysterious man and his fellow detective. He had a far more pressing issue to deal with.

Watari said nothing, yet the stony glint in his eyes spoke volumes of his opinions regarding L's foolhardy actions. L gulped, the child within him curling into a ball and beginning to sob at the disapproval of the man he held in such high regard. All was silent for a while, neither of them willing to be the first to break the silence. Eventually it was Watari who surrendered, as L had already predicted.

"L, what were you thinking?" It made L's insides squirm uncomfortably to hear that Watari was not angry, merely disappointed in him; for some reason, that had always hurt him so much more. Watari was one of the only human beings on the entire planet whose approval L actually cared about and sought.

_As well as C's._

L made a mental note to later gag that annoying little voice in the back of his mind.

"I was thinking that watching a man plummet to his death without attempting to do anything was not the ideal way to start my morning," L responded tartly, turning towards the small kitchen and rooting around in the cupboards, desperate for an early-morning snack. Eventually uncovering a small bag of icing sugar, L proceeded to delicately spoon the powder into his mouth, savouring the feeling of pure energy rushing through his veins.

"A man committed suicide?" Watari asked, frowning slightly. "Could you not have simply informed me? I would have notified the police immediately."

"I'm very sorry, Watari. It simply did not appear to be suicide – the man looked as though he was having some kind of fit, before he staggered to the edge and threw himself over." L paused in the middle of the room, spoon poised inches from his mouth. There was a car, by the alleyway besides which the man must have fallen. The windows were dark, but L watched with rapt fascination as the figure of a woman stepped out of the driver's side, mostly hidden by the large black umbrella she carried, despite the glorious sunshine.

Curiosity piqued, L stared out of the window, blatantly ignoring all social decorum that stated he should allow this person her privacy. She was briefly swallowed by the shadows, and L fidgeted impatiently as he waited for her to reappear. She did so not long afterwards – though there was one significant difference.

There was another person with her. A man, by the looks of it, though he was hidden by the umbrella, and the distance from which L watched made it difficult to be certain, regardless. Was it possible that this man was somehow connected to the strange disappearance? It seemed like too much of a coincidence, and L couldn't shake the feeling that they were somehow connected.

"L?" Watari's gentle voice interrupted L's musings, and he turned away from the window, sighing as he curled up in his favourite armchair. This unusual occurrence was hardly relevant to his current case, a serial murderer in the downtown district of Shinjuku. Admittedly, he had solved the case several hours ago, but he still had to forward all of the information to the police.

Thoughts of the mysterious man – _and C _– could wait until later.

* * *

_Light sprinted through the streets, for once using his full potential, heart hammering in his chest as he gasped for breath, his head still feeling heavy. Damn this! Damn those damned slayers! Damn it, damn it, damn it!_

_They had used holy water, those bastards! Contrary to popular belief, his skin did not bubble and melt when it came into contact with holy water; instead, it was more like an anaesthetic. Administered in vapour form and inhaled, or ingested as a liquid, or even inserted directly into the bloodstream, it clouded his mind, and would eventually render him unconscious. Too much of it, like any anaesthetic, would eventually kill him. He had been fortunate in that he had only inhaled a miniscule amount._

_However, even that was enough to weaken him and make him vulnerable to his enemies. Despite their immortality, vampires could be shockingly fragile creatures, as Light had recently discovered firsthand, after two members of the coven he was currently staying with had been murdered._

_Light was nineteen, though physically he supposed he was still merely seventeen, yet he was running for his undead life. _

_His feet flew over the ground, and Light had to blink several times to clear his vision. Feeling his footsteps faltering slightly, Light leapt up onto a nearby roof, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. He was exhausted, and knew that he couldn't keep running any more. Maybe hiding would be the better option._

_Light's eyes narrowed as the two men leading the hunt came into view. He felt his lips curling back over canines that suddenly lengthened as his temper overtook him, his eyes burning red in the dark of night. Thankfully, none of the humans glanced up, and Light remained unnoticed. Seeing but unseen; hearing but unheard. He now knew who these men were._

Mihael Keehl and Mail Jeevas, _Light thought bitterly. _Do not think that I will forget this.

* * *

When they finally arrived at his apartment building, Wicked walked Light to the door, the protective barrier of the umbrella still holding strong against the bright sunlight. Light shivered with the memory of his pain, glaring out at the brightly lit street, before turning to his companion.

"I can't thank you enough, Wicked," Light said, his gratitude genuine, no matter how awkwardly he expressed it. "If there's anything I can do...?"

"Well, I did see a very nice diamond necklace just a few days ago... I'm joking," she added flatly when she saw Light's horrified expression. He didn't have nearly enough money for something like that.

"Of course you are," Light reassured himself, whilst deciding that he was most certainly going to buy Wicked a joke book for Christmas – never mind a diamond necklace. "Thank you again," he added, kissing both of her cheeks in a fashion he had adopted whilst in Europe, before stepping into the safe shade of his apartment building and bowing politely to her.

Light shut the door behind him, taking a moment to gather himself before setting off down the corridor towards the elevator, carefully skirting around the patches of direct sunlight that came streaming through the windows.

The cool, fresh air of his apartment was a welcome greeting when he opened the door, and Light gratefully stepped into the darkened room, thankful that he had thought far enough ahead to close the curtains before leaving.

Settling himself on the bed, Light opened up his laptop, waiting impatiently for the thing to boot up, drumming his fingers against the keys in agitation.

A shower and sleep could wait until later. He had a lot to set up in preparation for tonight.

* * *

After almost an hour of this pointless game, L was beginning to think that C just wanted to lead him on a wild goose chase. After all, what else could this be? C had broken his usual pattern, instead opting to hunt down multiple criminals in one night.

It had all started when L received a call from the police station situated nearest to his current hotel room – a rather unusual coincidence, but L shrugged it off. There was no way that C could have found him here. Not after he had taken such care to layer false identity over false identity, until even the most ingenious human alive would not be able to tell which one – if any – was real.

Either way, L had received word that C was on the move again – a high-ranking yakuza member had been left outside of the police station, along with a simple note that had been signed with C's trademark cross.

_The gates to Spaceland.  
Y_

The message made very little sense, but L had ordered the police to send men to Spaceland, and – as L had hoped – they had found another criminal, unconscious and chained to the gates. This one, too, bore a similar message:

_To-Oh University.  
T_

L had had the policemen chasing after these vague messages all night, yet they still seemed no closer to C than they had been at the beginning. The ridiculous part was, even L was starting to suspect that C may in fact be several people working together, which completely contradicted all of his earlier theories. After all, according to testimonies from the criminals themselves, there were barely five minutes in between each capture – even by bullet train, C would not have been able to travel so fast. The thought that C may be a mass organisation disappointed L for some strange reason, but he decided that he could examine his emotions later. Right now, he had a detective to figure out.

"_L, we have another letter. We think this might be the last one,"_ Chief Yagami's voice sounded through his speakers, and L leaned forward eagerly.

"Thank you. Please forward me a copy as soon as possible." L nibbled on the very tip of his thumb, hardly noticing when the coppery tang of blood invaded his mouth.

L was virtually bouncing in his seat by the time the letter arrived, and he immediately scanned through it, searching for the rest of the hidden message.

_Children! That's what you are; nothing more than incompetent children, seeing the world through the eyes of a child. I feel ashamed on your behalf. Really, was chasing me all around Tokyo the only solution you could think  
of? How very depressing. I cannot even begin to imagine how you have the gall to call yourself police officers – oh,  
the shame! For you to be bested by someone barely out of boyhood. I feel obliged to inform you that this was simply a game; though I find it endlessly amusing that you wasted most of your  
night searching for me. Better luck next time!_

_Panton est tergiversatio._

Children of the night? L, do you know children of the night? What was C trying to say? By children of the night, was he referring to criminals, who had to hide in the shadows? Was his meaning more literal or more figurative than that? Despite himself, L felt his thoughts being drawn back to the man on the rooftop, and the people in the alley. _Children of the night..._

Then there was the last line. _Panton est tergiversatio_ – L knew that it was written in Latin; but why would C choose such an unconventional method of communicating?

Not to mention the various letters that had been left. There had been nine altogether, and L already knew that the police had tried several methods of converting that into a phone number – they had almost ended up ordering a pizza. _Everything is backwards..._

Of course! The letters! Though the police had tried reversing the numbers the letters translated to, they had been working on the basis that 'a' was equal to one, and 'z' was equal to twenty six. What if that was reversed? That would give L a completely different set of numbers, and thus a new lead to explore.

Excitedly, L reached for the phone, dialling his newfound number without a second thought. Impatiently, he sat and waited for the person on the other end to pick up the phone.

L felt his breath hitch and his heartbeats pause when the ringing stopped and a cool voice answered.

* * *

**Harhar, you see, you see? L, do you know children of the night... What comes next? What do you think? Take a guess!**

**Oh, and in case you hadn't already figured it out: Panton est tergiversatio=everything is backwards. According to the translator site (Praise be to the internet!)**

**As for the phonecall... can we say cliffhanger? Oh yes, you must now review, or L shall be left hanging for all of eternity, mwahahaha!**


	6. Unraveling

**I am updating way too much rather than doing my homework. Which is very stupid of me, but I just can't seem to help it. Somebody please shoot me. Right now.**

**Just kidding! If you kill me, you'll never find out what happens next! Mwahahahaha!**

**Death Note - let's see... I own my laptop, my ducky, my lone glove, my horrible alarm clock and the monster that lives under my bed. Is Death Note on that list? I think not.**

**Chapter 5: Unraveling**

* * *

Light flicked idly through the channels, the moonlight shining through his window and gently illuminating his room, his thoughts full of the events of the last few nights. Seeing his coven again, Ienipa's present, taunting L, leaving a trail of metaphorical breadcrumbs, being caught in the sunlight, being _seen _by L – not necessarily in that order.

News, news, sports, game show, news, documentary, news... Light sighed, leaving the TV as it was and turning instead to his bookcase, in a pointless attempt to find something to read; he already knew all of the books word-for-word and could probably recite them from memory, so what was the point in reading them again? Nevertheless, Light had nothing better to do, so he settled himself down with his battered copy of Dracula – yes, he appreciated the irony – and turning to the first page.

After reading only five words, Light felt his mind start to drift, and he started wondering what the great L could possibly be doing now. Sleeping, if he was anything like every other human being on the planet... then again, had he not proved time and time again that he was nothing like every other human? There had been several occasions where Light had been pleasantly surprised by L's level of insight and intuition – his thought processes were so similar to what Light's had been as a human. He was sure that L would make a fantastic vampire, whoever he was.

Tossing the book aside, Light turned back to the television, his mind automatically storing the information that police had finally caught up to several well known criminals – _how frustrating to have them take all of the credit for my work, _Light thought angrily – and the fact that a very important businessman had recently died of an unexpected heart attack. Light shook his head despairingly; humans were such delicate creatures. It took only one small fault in their incredibly complex bodies, and they were dead. Though the man had had no previous heart troubles such things were not terribly uncommon, so Light shrugged it off as another of life's little oddities.

Without anyone here to witness his strange habits, Light felt free; he would often practice his fighting techniques, or extend his genius to its limit here in the safety of his apartment. Sometimes he would try his hand at singing or dancing; he had even discovered his talent for painting, something that he had always scorned in his human life.

Light gazed blankly at the painting hanging on the wall – one of his own, detailing several shinigami in their realm, as described to him by his coven, watching the human world; six shadowy figures with red eyes in particular. Perhaps he shouldn't leave it where it could be seen by anyone who entered his apartment, but Light doubted that any human would make the connection between Light, the shinigami and the six humanoids they were watching.

Heaving another sigh, Light drifted over to his laptop, logging into his new email account in one browser window, using another to hack into the police data base. Having refreshed the page several times, he saw that something new had appeared. A smug smirk curled his mouth when he saw the report on C – it seemed that they hadn't seen his little message, though Light didn't doubt that L had immediately picked up on it. He had already left behind another note, and was eagerly awaiting the results.

Light frowned when the doorbell rang – he immediately minimised the screen, closing his laptop and muting the television.

"Just a minute!" He called, his voice surprisingly even, to his great surprise. Inside, he was fuming; who would be calling at this time of the night? It wasn't something that normal humans did; what was going on?

"Hello?" Light asked politely, opening the door to reveal his rather unwelcome visitor; the young man was dressed sharply, black hair neat, eyes cool and calculating behind his glasses. Light was admittedly rather impressed – though he was quite aware that looks were not terribly important in the grand scheme of things, he did acknowledge that it was always good to appear presentable, if for no other reason than to make a good first impression. This man had the appearance of a lawyer or a respectable businessman; intelligent and likely ruthless.

"I apologise for the late hour of my visit, but I regret that I must ask you for a favour. You see, I've just moved in down the corridor, and I'm afraid that none of my belongings have been delivered yet; I don't suppose you have any spare blankets, do you?" The young man got straight to the point, something that Light quite admired.

"Of course; if you'll just wait a moment," Light requested, stepping back inside and reaching inside his small airing cupboard, pulling out several of his clean burgundy sheets.

"Will these suffice?" He asked, handing them to the man. A hint of a smile curved the corners of the man's mouth, and Light felt a small shiver run down his spine at the expression; it reminded him of Kietheren's savage grin when he was devising a new way to hunt his chosen prey.

"Yes, thank you," the man responded, bowing politely to Light before turning to walk back to his apartment. Watching him walk away, Light again felt that shiver of unease run down his spine; his eyes glowed a disturbing red as he gazed curiously above the young man's head.

_Teru Mikami. I think I will have to remember you._

* * *

_Light's hand tightened around his phone, his breathing ragged as he waited anxiously for someone to pick up. He knew that they were in different time zones, but it shouldn't be taking them this long to answer, surely._

"_Hello, who's calling please?" Yoru's voice echoed down the phone, and Light felt himself sag against the wall in relief at the familiar tone._

"_Yoru, it's me," Light growled. "I need you to tell me something, and don't bother with any of your word games. Is it possible for humans to have death eyes?" Light gripped the phone so hard that a distant part of his mind began to panic over whether he would break the small handheld before Yoru had a chance to answer._

"_That would depend. Could you see the lifespan of the human?" Yoru asked, his voice thoughtful and full of something that Light couldn't quite place. He supposed he would describe it as a strange blend of fear and excitement._

"_What kind of stupid question is that? Of course I could!" Light hissed angrily. Yoru chuckled quietly, which only served to anger Light further._

"_How very interesting... Tell me, Light, what was the name of this human?" Yoru enquired curiously, and Light snarled furiously down the phone. He had no time for this! There was a human committing mass murder, using the justification that it's his victims' 'time to die'. Light felt sick at the thought of the disgusting piece of filth he had encountered earlier that day. The human hadn't appeared to notice him, but he had been continuously muttering to himself; Light had heard enough to confirm that this was the criminal mastermind behind the Wara Ningyo murders._

"_Beyond Birthday," Light responded. "But I don't see how that's relevant!"_

"_Oh, it's not; I was just curious. In answer to your question, Light; yes, it is possible for humans to possess the eyes of death, but for them to do so without making the deal with a shinigami is indeed rare. I have seen only three instances in my lifetime," Yoru said, finally answering Light's original question._

"_Alright," Light sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache starting to build behind his eyes. The sun was close to rising, and Light was exhausted. "Thank you, Yoru."_

"_You're welcome," Yoru replied amiably. "Goodbye, Light."_

"_Bye," Light said shortly, and hung up. Slowly, so slowly, his eyes opened, the irises a stunning, terrifyingly beautiful crimson._

"_I guess I'll be busy tomorrow," he muttered, a broad grin spreading across his face, turning his features positively demonic. Light didn't care about that._

_C would have to prepare in order to outwit B._

* * *

There was a click, before a cool female voice sounded through the speakers.

"Welcome to the One True Soulmate hotline; for those of you searching for long term relationships and commitments..." L felt his mind go blank with something very much like shock, or horror, or perhaps utter, homicidal rage. He should've guessed that C would pull a stunt like this, rather than risk communicating directly with L, yet it didn't stop the irrational surge of anger that flooded his mind.

"If you're looking for foxy females, press one..." The voice continued, and L resisted the urge to hurl the phone across the room. He kept listening, despite the fact that his instincts were screaming at him to _hang up_ already; C was probably getting a good laugh out of this. Still, there was also the very slim possibility that C might have used this to try and communicate with him.

The voice changed suddenly, and L gripped the phone, an excited grin blooming on his face. This person was male, and sounded as though he was endlessly amused. His voice was warm, and he sounded young – possibly even adolescent.

L had never heard a more appealing voice.

"And if you're searching for C, please hold. An automated message will play in precisely one minute." A slight buzzing sound filled L's ears, and he felt an excited laugh bubbling in his chest and throat; one that he promptly crushed, in favour of sitting stoically and counting down the seconds.

After exactly sixty seconds, the buzzing sound ended abruptly, and there was a slight pause before the message began to play. L took the phone from his ear to stare at the thing, his jaw unhinged as he recognised the music now filtering through the speakers. This time, he really did throw his phone across the room, where it thankfully bounced on the carpet without breaking. The music continued to play.

"_Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down,  
"Never gonna run around and desert you..."_

* * *

Light chuckled softly. It had been ridiculously easy to convince Akuma to play the part of the woman working for the dating agency; she had found his prank utterly hilarious, and had agreed immediately.

It was a shame, Light reflected, that L hadn't waited to hear the end of the message. In it, he had included plenty of information about himself that he was certain L was just dying to know. Ah well. He would have to dispose of this number now, in order to prevent L ever listening to the entirety of the message.

He would just have to find another way to get through to the detective.

* * *

_Light raised a hand to knock politely on the door, in a way that completely disregarded the severity of the current situation. He heard a flurry of movement from within the room, but no voice called out, and no move was made to open the door. Light sighed resignedly – he had been hoping that it wouldn't come to this._

_Easily tearing the door from its hinges, Light stood on the threshold, peering cautiously into the room, gladly noticing that Beyond Birthday still had his back to the door; though that would only last for perhaps half a second more. Light rushed forward, thankful that he had had the presence of mind to gain permission to enter from the original purchaser of this hotel room; Beyond's supposed intended victim. _

_Light had been lucky – Beyond had not had enough time to foolishly implement his plan. The cameras had already been disarmed along with the smoke detector, and Light knew that had he left it any longer, Beyond would have undoubtedly doused himself with petrol before setting himself alight. Light grasped the young human's arms, twisting them behind his back and keeping his face hidden._

"_You know," Light began conversationally. "There was just one flaw with this oh-so brilliant plan of yours. Would you like to know what it was?" His voice was purposefully taunting, mocking, designed to keep the young murderer occupied until Naomi Misora finally got her arse in gear and realised who the murderer truly was._

"_Kyahaha. So, C, you managed to catch me? Congrats. So what now? You gonna knock me unconscious and leave a little note, like all the other times?" Beyond's voice, surprisingly enough, was joyous and triumphant, as though he had just won rather than lost._

"_I'm not sure. Maybe. First, would you care telling me how you came to have those lovely red eyes of yours?" Light asked, knowing full well that only Beyond would understand something like that._

"_They came with my face," Beyond responded sarcastically, though Light heard his true meaning; he had been born with the eyes._

"_How fascinating. Tell me, Beyond Birthday, can you see your own lifespan?" Light felt a surge of malicious pleasure at Beyond's shocked gasp; after all, Light wasn't supposed to know his name. Still, Beyond managed to gather himself with admirable speed._

"_Of course not," Beyond responded contemptuously, as though such a thing should be common knowledge._

"_And that is where your scheme was destined to fail – you still have a few years left, Beyond Birthday. Assuming, of course, that no one decides to interfere."_

"_Come on, C, I'm sure you're just dying to know why I did this – would you like me to tell you? After all, I've lost now," Beyond said, his voice a mocking imitation of remorseful._

"_I'm not so sure that you have lost," Light said thoughtfully. "I'm not entirely certain what your aim was, but I get the distinct feeling that it has somehow been achieved."_

"_Perceptive indeed, Mr. C. Yes, I have won; shall I tell you why? Hm? I've won because you solved this case and not L. I wanted to create the perfect crime, one that even the great L couldn't solve. And I succeeded! You were the one who caught me, not L! I finally defeated him!"_

"_Oh? Because I can hear his little puppet running towards us as we speak," Light laughed; indeed, he _could_ hear the thundering footsteps of Naomi Misora as she hurtled down the corridor, probably wondering what on earth Beyond was planning._

"_In that case, tell me something about yourself, C. After all, you seem to know a lot about me. How about your name?" Beyond laughed, his slightly manic voice reminding Light uneasily of Kietheren._

"_I'm afraid we're out of time, Beyond Birthday. But it was a pleasure to meet you," Light said politely as Naomi rushed into the room, stopping dead at the sight of the mass-murderer being forcibly restrained by a seventeen-year-old boy._

"_Ah, Naomi, I've been waiting for you. If you would be so kind as to blindfold and handcuff Beyond here, I would be most grateful," Light said, 'turning on the charm', to use the somewhat vulgar phrase preferred by Akuma. Naomi stood for another moment, completely frozen, before she snapped out of her daze, following his orders quickly and efficiently; something that Light not only admired but was also very thankful for._

"_Thank you. Now, if you would keep our meeting to yourself, I would most certainly be eternally in your debt," Light said, smiling warmly at her._

"_I – of course! But who are you?" Naomi asked, her voice an amusing blend of confused, defensive, angry and afraid. Such a typical human, though she was admittedly an excellent FBI agent._

"_Here is my card," Light said, brushing dismissively past her, and handing her a small square of off-white parchment, emblazoned with his trademark cross._

"_But... C, wait!" She called, turning to him. Light paused, tilting his head in her general direction to indicate that he was listening._

"_Thank you! And... Will I see you again? I really admire your work, and..." Light cut her off._

"_I expect you'll be seeing me again. You are, after all, the only one who knows the face of the mysterious C." Light smiled at her one last time before spinning around and sprinting away, determined to leave before the backup Misora had undoubtedly called for arrived. Besides, he would have to find a way to evade them in broad daylight, a task he certainly wasn't looking forward to._

_Honestly, it made him wonder if being a secret detective _and _vampire was really all it was cracked up to be._

* * *

"L, you need to stop obsessing over the man you saw fall," Watari told him gently, forcing a piece of cheesecake into L's unresisting hand.

Five minutes later: "L, please stop moping over C. I'm sure he'll leave another message for you soon."

Seventeen minutes later: "L, for crying out loud, this is bordering on unhealthy!"

L had thus ignored every one of Watari's pleas, and he intended to continue doing so for as long as necessary. He was well aware that his obsessions were unhealthy and bordering on unnatural, but L had never really been one for worrying about his health, and he certainly didn't care one jot about normality. He was going to figure this out, or die trying!

Maybe he was just being melodramatic. However, the point still stood that these were perhaps the most stimulating problems he had been faced with since... ever. Of all the criminals he had encountered, all of the cases he had taken on, these two people were by far proving to be the most challenging puzzles he could have wished for. They were both so mysterious, so out-of-the-ordinary. It was fascinating and disturbing at the same time.

Shaking his head slightly, L turned to the window, his thoughts miles away, focused entirely upon the frustrating little message sent to him by C; he was certain that it was not yet finished, and he was anxiously awaiting the last piece of the puzzle, so to speak.

"L, it seems that you're in luck," Watari said, walking briskly into the room with a stack of papers held carefully away from the banoffee pie that was balancing precariously on a tray in his other hand.

"I see that; thank God the bakery was still open at this hour," L agreed, reaching for the pie immediately, and Watari rolled his eyes.

"Actually L, I was referring to these," Watari sighed, handing L the papers and placing the banoffee pie carefully and strategically out of L's reach; L considered it cheating, whereas Watari would simply argue that it was being cautious. "Your 'friend' seems to have left another message." Gasping, L focused on the pages in front of him, flipping impatiently through them to find the relevant report. L felt a small frown crease his forehead as he read through the words, checking several times to make sure he hadn't misunderstood the message.

_See, I think I know what your problem is. You're all so naive. You think the world is a place that you can change for the better. So very human; I wonder, how can you remain so hopeful when surrounded by destruction and  
death? I suppose in a way, I can admire that unwavering sense of optimism. The world through my eyes is far darker, stained with red._

_Thank you for having hope._

L thought through the complete message several times, yet he always reached the same conclusion. Having finally unravelled the hidden question, he felt oddly deflated, yet he also felt the stirrings of something very much akin to pity somewhere deep within him. It sounded as though C had given up completely on humanity.

Then there was the message itself; it was so morbid, and slightly frightening. L couldn't help but wonder if C himself was a 'child of the night' – if so, he couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor man.

_L, do you know, children of the night see death?_

* * *

**Harhar, L got Rick Roll'd. XD Sorry guys, couldn't resist it. I just had to put that in somewhere.**

**Le gasp! Beyond Birthday! Yes, like every other fangirl in existence I fell in love with him the instant I read Another Note. How could you not love a homicidal jam-loving maniac who looks and acts like L? Unfortunately for me, he's a very hard character to pin down, so I hope I did him justice.**

**Also, I'm kinda surprised. Thus far, no one has picked up on the titles. There's something special about them. See if you can work it out.**

**And I promise that Naomi Misora is very important. Simply because Death Note does not have enough strong female characters, and I wish Naomi could've had a bigger role.**


	7. Overcast

**Oh yesssss. Another chapter, because I've made myself a revision timetable, which means I've actually finished all of my homework and coursework. I feel so smart :D**

**Death Note - Oh yeah. 'Cause the girl who's never been to Japan, knows nothing about Japanese culture and folklore, or gods, or anything else _totally_ owns Death Note *sarcasm*.**

**Chapter 6: Overcast**

* * *

_Naomi Misora laid sprawled across the bed in the dingy hotel room, eyes shut, feeling utterly drained. Beyond Birthday was being held in police custody and was awaiting a secret trial, and she hadn't heard anything from C, despite his promise. She was expecting Raye to arrive any moment, yet she couldn't even bring herself to draw the curtains, instead leaving the room bathed in darkness. The day was overcast anyway, so opening the curtains probably wouldn't make that much of a difference._

_C's identity had been irritating her ever since she had first seen him, restraining Beyond with an ease that seemed almost inhuman. As Naomi well knew – from personal experience, no less – Beyond was an excellent fighter, and undeniably insane. She was certain that he was capable of overpowering the young Asian boy she had seen standing behind him._

_There was something so familiar about C's face, but Naomi was damned if she could remember why, or where she had seen him before. She was certain that she would remember such a handsome young man – his features were very distinctive after all. He couldn't have been older than about eighteen, yet already he was unbelievably attractive; she might even go so far as to call him beautiful. His hair was a honeyed brown, his eyes a melting caramel colour, though there was a sharp intelligence in his gaze that made him appear older. There was also a strange cynicism that was very much at odds with the hope and justice that C represented._

_There was something compelling about his gaze, and Naomi had trusted him, despite the unusual circumstances, even before he had revealed his identity to her. Of course, after he had handed her 'his card', she had been in total shock. She doubted there was another human in existence that knew what C looked like and had had the opportunity to speak with him whilst knowing his identity._

_A polite yet insistent knock at the door made Naomi startle so bad she fell off of the bed. There shouldn't be anyone calling on her, particularly at this late hour. The sun was about to set, and besides, nobody but Raye knew where she currently staying. Standing up with a barely-concealed groan, she went to answer the door; it was probably the cleaner, or maybe Raye had lost his key again..._

_Naomi's breath left her body in a startled whoosh when she opened the door, not having bothered with checking the peep-hole._

"_Hello again, Naomi Misora," C said, standing on the threshold and smiling warmly at her. "Might I come in?"_

* * *

Light's eyes fluttered open as the sound of his obnoxious ringtone rudely invaded his slumber. Rolling over, he checked the clock on his bedside table, only to see that there was still an hour and a half of sunlight left; who would be calling him at this hour?

"Hello?" He groaned, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. It was probably just a wrong number, or a salesman, or...

"Light, turn on your TV!" Akuma's panicked voice filtered through the speakers, and Light frowned at her rudeness. There was no need for her to be so abrupt with him. What was wrong with her?

"Akuma do you have any idea what time it is? The sun's still up, for Heaven's sake!"

"Yes, I know what the damn time is! Just turn on your fucking TV!" She screamed, and Light's eyes widened at her use of profanity; that was usually more Kietheren's habit.

"Alright, alright. What channel?" Light asked, hoping to pacify her as her glanced around for the remote. Clicking a button, he watched the screen flare to life, the sudden bright light making his eyes ache slightly.

"A news channel; any, it doesn't matter which."

Light did as he was told, flipping quickly and resignedly through the channels until he reached one of the larger – and more reliable – news stations. There didn't seem to be anything out-of-the-ordinary happening, and Light felt the beginnings of a scowl take residence on his face.

"Akuma, if this is some sort of joke, I swear to God..." Light began threateningly, but Akuma cut him off.

"It's not, cross my undead heart! Just keep watching." Light rolled his eyes and switched his focus back to the television, still unsure of exactly what it was that Akuma wanted him to see. The news had moved on from detailing some sort of charity work done by a nearby school, and Light watched with renewed interest as a logo of some sort showed up on the screen behind the newsreader; it looked like an ornate heart, decorated by beautiful patterns around its edge, with two ragged wings supposedly sprouting from the side.

"The mysterious heart attacks that began just this morning have been continuing throughout the day; all of the victims have been criminals widely considered to be the worst known to mankind. There have so far been over three thousand deaths confirmed in the past five hours, and it is thought that there may be as many as four thousand more still unconfirmed. The police are still treating these deaths as a series of unrelated incidents, yet there is already widespread public outcry, both in favour and against these deaths, thought to be caused by the elusive 'Kira'. But what, exactly, is this 'Kira'? I have supernatural expert, Taro Kagami with me today. Taro, what are your views..." The newsreader continued to drone, and Light tuned out the sound of her voice.

"Akuma, what is going on?" Light asked, his voice strained. There was no way that this many deaths could be unrelated, yet Light knew of no way for them to have all been caused by a single person or illness. The criminals were spread throughout the world – though the largest concentration was in fact, here in Japan – with no way to communicate or even come into contact with one another.

"Kira has come," she whispered, and the quiet, resigned fear in her tone frightened Light more than any amount of hysteria or panic he had heard from her.

"Akuma, what _is_ Kira?" Light asked, already feeling his temper begin to rise at her cryptic answers.

"Every few centuries, we'd encounter a legend, a prophecy, if you want. Didn't matter where we went, who we spoke to, there was always some sort of mention of him. I mean, obviously they called him different things, but the basic concept was always the same. It was said that Kira would come in the darkest of times, when his judgement was needed the most. Kira, the divine will who would bring redemption and forgiveness to every good person alive. Kira, the saviour of humanity."

"Right, but what does that have to do with anything?" Light asked. If this Kira had been known by every civilisation for centuries as a saviour, then why was Akuma so panicked? She didn't care particularly for individual humans, so she wouldn't be concerned by the deaths of the criminals. What was the matter with her?

"The vampires and shinigami have a slightly different take on the 'prophecy'. Legend has it that the coming of Kira will mark a new era; one in which humans have no place. His power is not one to be taken lightly; he has the ability to kill everyone alive, if he so wishes. We know Kira, not as the saviour of mankind, but as the destroyer of it."

* * *

_Naomi's jaw dropped, and it was a couple of seconds before she managed to gather herself enough to shut her mouth and stand back, silently inviting C to come in. Yet the young man didn't move, instead standing where he was, his expression not changing in the slightest._

"_You... You can come in," Naomi finally stuttered, and had the pleasure and satisfaction of watching C's polite smile morph into a full-blown grin, his warm brown eyes sparkling, teeth shining in the dim light._

"_Thank you," he murmured, stepping gracefully past her and settling himself on one of the lumpy, worn armchairs that were scattered haphazardly around the room. He lounged in a manner that simply oozed arrogance, his long legs crossed gracefully, arms resting casually on the arms of the chair as he leaned back and surveyed the room through hooded eyes. Naomi quietly shut the door, and turned back, crossing the room and grasping the curtains, fully intending to throw them back and allow some much-needed daylight into the room._

"_No!" C all but shouted, and Naomi spun around, to see him leap from his chair, crossing the room in a single bound and grasping her wrist, his eyes blazing furiously. They were no longer a soft, melted toffee colour, but a vibrant, violent red hue that absolutely terrified her._

_They stood that way for several seconds, neither of them moving or even breathing. Gradually, however, C's grip on her arm loosened, and his eyes faded to their original colour once again, the anger seeming to simply drain out of him. He dropped her arm and turned back to his chair with a sigh, collapsing into the seat with none of his previous grace. He covered his face with his hands, and when he spoke, his voice was muffled._

"_I'm sorry. But please, don't open the curtains," he whispered, and even though she could hardly hear him, she could hear the strained quality of his voice._

"_Alright," she said, hoping to calm him, walking back and perching nervously on the edge of one of the chairs. Maybe C had anger management issues, or maybe he was just mentally unstable. Either way, it didn't hurt to be overly careful. C glanced up at her, and laughed bitterly; Naomi tried to keep the confused frown off of her face._

"_You're afraid of me now; I suppose that that's to be expected. You are in no danger from me, I promise you that – I just... I just have a strong adverse reaction to sunlight. Though, I suppose that the day is grey enough that it may not matter," he said, and his rich, warm voice was bitingly sarcastic, and saturated with something that Naomi cautiously identified as self-loathing._

"_Why?" She asked. "Is it an allergic reaction, or are you some kind of vampire?" Her voice was light, teasing, trying to bring the conversation back under control._

"_A vampire? I suppose you could say that, but the politically correct term is 'nox liberi', if you're feeling picky." His voice was calm enough, but Naomi could see the way that his sharp eyes watched her reaction carefully. Naomi tried her best to remain neutral, but it was quite difficult._

"_Is that why you wouldn't come in until I told you to?" She asked, her voice wavering slightly, which surprisingly made C wince visibly._

"_Yes. It's also why I had no trouble when restraining Beyond, and why you were so willing to follow my instructions. It's the reason I knew your name and how I find most of the criminals I hunt."_

"_The criminals you _hunt_?" Naomi asked, her voice suddenly raising in pitch by about an octave._

"_Oh yes. It's why they're always unconscious when they're found; however, allow me to assure you that I detest killing, particularly when there is absolutely no reason to. I refuse to kill any of my victims – besides, even if I were sick enough to enjoy it, there is too much cleaning up afterwards. I don't bother."_

"_But some do?" Naomi asked, feeling the beginnings of pure fear trickle down her spine like icy-cold fingers._

"_Many do. Thankfully, most are intelligent enough to disguise the deaths as accidents, or at the very least hide or dispose of the bodies well," C said, seemingly unconcerned by the gruesome nature of the topic of conversation. Naomi could only suppose that a vampire in his line of work encountered death on a near-daily basis. C sighed agitatedly, checking the silver watch around his wrist. "However, we are straying from the topic; I didn't come here to discuss the feeding habits of my fellows. I have a proposition for you, Miss. Misora."_

"_And what might that be?" Naomi asked, trepidation filling her body at the thought of all the possible things he could want. Her blood, her life, her soul..._

"_You are to work for me, should I ever feel the need to ask for help. You are an excellent FBI agent, Naomi, and I'll understand if you have no wish to work for me, however I think that my offer is quite reasonable. All I ask is that should I ever need your services, that this commitment will come first; you will be my eyes and ears among humans during the day; I can handle the nights well enough myself." His mouth twitched upward into the semblance of a smile, though to Naomi the expression seemed to be more of a smirk._

"_What do I get in return?" She asked; so far, all he had done was list why it would be good for _him_ to have her working for him._

"_You and your fiancé would have my protection," C said, holding up two identical rings; both were what appeared to be solid silver, and were adorned with C's ornate cross. "The crosses were originally a mark of protection devised by vampires many centuries ago; any human who wears these crosses have the interest and protection of a vampire, and are therefore not to be hunted. I suppose it was probably used as a claim to begin with, to prevent vampires attacking another's prey – now they are simply used to stop humans being killed." C smiled suddenly, and his even, white teeth seemed so much more threatening now. "Also, I think you'll find that my pay is excellent."_

_Naomi frowned, her brow creasing slightly as she thought through C's suggestion. It seemed to be quite a fair bargain; besides, she had no idea what C might do to her if she refused. He might lose his temper with her again, and now that she knew what he was capable of..._

"_On one condition," Naomi started, holding up one finger as though to emphasize her point. "You have to tell me your name. I won't work for you unless I know who you are." Secretly, Naomi just wanted to be able to match a name to his face, and perhaps finally work out where exactly she recognised him from._

"_I suppose that sounds fair enough," C mused thoughtfully, his eyes distant. "Alright, Naomi Misora; as I know your name, it seems only right that you should know mine." C stood and bowed in a way that might have been either mocking or perfectly serious._

"_My name is Light Yagami."_

Light... Yagami?_ Naomi's thoughts were a jumble, full of images and long-forgotten news reports. Murdered... two slices on his throat... gruesome... no evidence... murdered... dead._

_Naomi fainted._

* * *

L chewed anxiously on his thumbnail, watching the news reports set up on various monitors with wide eyes, wondering how the police could possibly be stupid enough to treat these as 'unrelated incidents'. It was clear that they were all connected somehow, and L supposed that it would once again be down to him to discover exactly what that 'somehow' was. Unless C managed it before him.

Besides, if all of the crazy theories currently circulating the internet had even a grain of truth in them, then L and C would actually be looking for a culprit, a murderer; something much easier to predict and outwit than a simple natural disaster.

Already, there were those who worshipped 'Kira', as he was being called, as a god. They claimed that he was ridding the world of evil by eliminating the criminals that made the streets so unsafe. They believed that this was his divine will, that humans should not question it, nor should they attempt to interfere, lest they be struck down by Kira. This was for the good of mankind, they claimed, and that humanity would benefit from this eventually – whether it be next week or in a thousand years.

Still, people were impatient, and the only reason they were so excited about Kira's sudden appearance was because they were being given immediate results. If this continued at the current rate, L didn't doubt that crime rates would soon begin dropping as people became more and more afraid of the punishment for committing a crime.

There were those who were already afraid; afraid of L and C. However, though the two detectives did their best, they were only human. They could not bring immediate punishment to the worst of the world's criminals; they could not kill thousands almost simultaneously with heart attacks. They were good, they were geniuses, but even _they_ couldn't manage a feat like that.

Regardless, murder was still murder. It didn't matter that Kira killed only criminals, the fact remained that he had slaughtered thousands of people in a single night. No matter how much people wanted to believe in him, no matter how much he might be called 'righteous', he himself was nothing more than a common murderer, who happened to have one of the most effective methods of killing L had ever seen.

Idly, L started to wonder what he would do had he been granted that sort of power. To him, it seemed less like the gift many believed it to be, and more like a sort of curse; to have the weight of so many human lives pressing down on you, to know that you had been the direct cause of so many deaths. It was something that L, in all his intelligence, could only begin to imagine.

L then began to speculate as to what C might do with this sort of power. Would he do the same as Kira? Or would his point of view be more similar to L's? Maybe _C _was Kira – now there was an amusing thought. C's sense of justice would never allow him to commit so heinous a crime, L decided confidently, delicately picking up his coffee cup and draining the now-cold liquid in one go.

Still, C had spoken of being able to see death – _maybe he had meant he could speak to the dead,_ L thought, laughing quietly to himself. _Then I could just get him to _ask _the victims what happened._ Either way, L would be very glad and grateful for C's input on this case – though with no way to communicate with C, he couldn't collaborate with the other detective.

Sighing dejectedly, L felt his thoughts wandering towards the mystery that had been plaguing him for some time now – was C a single person, or a large organisation that was simply controlled by one single, brilliant mind? Though L desperately wished to believe the first, the second was looking increasingly likely; L wasn't sure why he was so dead set on C being one person, but he supposed that it made sense in a convoluted way. He wanted to have found someone who was his equal; to have finally found another mind as capable as his.

"_L,"_ Watari's voice suddenly resounded through the spacious room, making L jump. He collected himself quickly, leaning towards the computer monitor curiously.

"Yes, Watari?" L asked.

"_Mello's on line three. He wants to speak with you."_

* * *

"Akuma, I need you to tell me everything you know or can speculate about Kira," Light commanded, his strong voice confident, despite all of the doubts and the confusion that swirled within his mind.

"He has a shinigami's tool, he's clearly deluded and possibly insane, and I wouldn't be at all surprised if all this publicity and worship crap goes to his head," she rattled off, and Light could quite easily envision her ticking off a list on her fingers.

"Shinigami's tool – what does that mean?" Light asked immediately; he had heard the others speak of shinigami, of course he had, but he had never had the desire to know any more about them than the absolute basics.

"Oh God, it's been so long," Akuma whispered, her voice as distant as when she began planning out the newest recipe for blood and wine; Light wasn't sure how she kept thinking of different ones, but she managed somehow. "I still remember every rule..."

"Rules? Akuma, for fucks sake, just tell me!" Light screeched, his voice ripping through two octaves. His use of such a swearword shocked even himself, but Light was now beyond caring.

"The death note... A notebook of death. The human whose name is written in this notebook shall die... Kira has a death note, Light; a shinigami's tool and a human's greatest weapon. A name and a face – it's all you need to kill a human," she murmured, her voice reverential. Light hissed through his teeth furiously.

"So, what? The death note can kill anybody using just their face and name?" Light snarled at her – why had he never been told this before?

"No, not anyone; only humans. Vampires and shinigami aren't affected by the death notes; however, in the same way, only humans and shinigami can use the note – if you or I were to write down a name, nothing would happen. That was part of the agreement we made with the shinigami king when we left the realm. And yes, you only need a name and a face; you write down a name with the person's face in mind, so no one else is affected."

"Okay," Light sighed, absently rubbing his forehead to dispel the headache he could feel building behind his eyes. "Okay. So this... is murder?" Light asked, his voice smaller now and very uncertain; he suddenly felt like a child again, running to his older sister for reassurance.

"Of the grandest scale," she said, her voice still soft and disbelieving. "Ienipa said that she saw this, but I didn't believe her, not for a second. So we turned on the TV and... Oh God. Kira's here," she said, and Light heard her sob softly; something so out of character of Akuma, who had always been strong and fierce and sarcastic.

"Akuma, it's alright, I promise. Give me the phone," Light heard Wicked's soft, gentle voice echo through the speaker. "Go back to the others. You'll be fine." There was a shuffling sound as the phone was passed over, and Light tapped his foot impatiently.

"Sorry about that; Akuma's always been terrified of the coming of Kira. If the humans vanish, that means the end of vampires and shinigami alike, and Akuma has retained the fanciful notion of immortality from her youth," Wicked said, and Light could almost see the soft smile that would be etched on her pale face.

"I understand. Wicked, I need you to tell me everything you know about the death notes," Light said, his voice authoritative.

"Alright then. Are you sitting comfortably? This could take a while..."

* * *

**Mwahaha! Kira has started killing, the vampires are panicking, and the police are as oblivious as always! And there's more Naomi! Hooray for feminism!!**

**Review? Please?**


	8. Glare

**I probably have some explaining to do from the last couple of chapters. I'll try to remember everything, but if anyone has any questions, be sure to review or PM me, 'kay?  
1) Taro Kagami - in the original little Death Note comic he was the main character. I thought I had to put him in here somewhere, having recently bought the 'How To Read' *shameless advertising*  
2) Light leaving crosses with criminals - think of it as his way of ensuring the criminals are given to the police in one piece. Wouldn't do for a vampire to decide to eat that handily tied-up criminal.  
3) BB - I have yet to decide exactly how big his part will be.  
4) Chapter names - are also the names of the episodes, in order.**

**Can't think of anything else right now, so if there's something you're curious about, let me know.**

**Death Note - You know the drill. Not mine.**

**Chapter 7: Glare**

* * *

Ryuk laughed wildly, the apple in his hands heavy with the promise of juicy sweetness. He tossed the shiny, perfect fruit from hand to hand as he contemplated the best way to enjoy it; should he wait, so that the treat would seem even more delicious when he _did_ allow himself to taste it? Or should he simply eat it immediately, and savour the wonderful sensation while it lasted? Ah, decisions, decisions.

Eventually Ryuk made the wise decision of eating the apple immediately, and fetching another to eat later – a true win-win situation, though Ryuk said so himself.

The human he was currently following was... _intriguing,_ to put it mildly. His usage of the death note was unlike that of any other human possessed by a shinigami that Ryuk had ever seen, but that was what made this so much _fun_. Already the other humans had noticed something happening, which meant that there would soon be people searching for 'Kira'. That was when the real games would begin.

Ryuk didn't claim to be an expert on human nature, but if there was one thing he knew about the strange creatures, it was that their survival instinct was capable of overcoming practically anything; so, when Kira got himself in real trouble, Ryuk thought it might be interesting to see exactly how far he was willing to go to save his own snivelling hide. Because really, Kira was a pathetic excuse for a human; selfish, vain, driven by his own desire for success at any cost, using the lives of thousands of humans to mask his intentions. Ryuk may not have been a very compassionate shinigami, but even _he_ would never have dreamed of killing so many humans in one go.

Kira didn't even bat an eyebrow – was that the right phrase? Ryuk wondered to himself. Whatever, Kira didn't bat... the things that covered his eyes. What were they for, anyway? Ryuk had managed just fine without them his entire life; why did humans need them so badly? If humans needed anything, it was wings. Travelling was so much easier when all you had to do was sprout wings from your shoulders and...

Ryuk was losing his bus of thought again – really, humans had to stop thinking up these stupid sayings, he could never remember them.

Ryuk watched Kira watch other humans on the wide TV screen, and refrained from asking if they could have a couple of rounds of Mario golf; a wonderful invention that Ryuk had discovered only yesterday and now couldn't get enough of. He decided, however, that it might be best if he stuck to the apples and didn't push his luck. It looked like Kira was busy at the moment, so now might not be the best time to interrupt him. Ryuk could try later, when there was less chance of him getting his head bitten off.

Turning to the TV, Ryuk dispassionately gazed at the news; they had stopped reporting on the 'Kira phenomenon', and had moved on to smaller, more boring topics.

Ryuk hated boredom. It was the sole reason he had dropped his notebook in the first place.

...That, and to get more apples.

* * *

"Light, you'll have to keep in your mind that several centuries have passed since I've so much as _seen _a death note; I may not be able to tell you all that you need to know," Wicked said calmly, and he heard her take a sip of some kind of drink; he could imagine her reclining on one of the many sofas, delicately drinking the 'house red' from a crystal goblet; when the rest of the world was in turmoil, Wicked would always be the rock that stood strong and unchanging with the centuries.

"That's fine, Wicked. Just tell me what you know," Light sighed, flopping backwards onto his bed, smiling softly when he realised that the sun was going down.

"Every shinigami has to have a death note that belongs only to them – the note can be borrowed, sub-letted or in the possession of a human, but a shinigami must always have a death note. The note is used to extend the life of the shinigami; if a human is killed before the end of their predetermined lifespan, then the remaining time is added to the shinigami's life – as long as shinigami continue to write the names of humans, they are immortal and virtually indestructible."

"Virtually?" Light asked, wondering how gods of death could be killed.

"Well, I suppose there must be a way to kill the shinigami, but if one has been found, it was after I descended to this realm," Wicked sighed, and Light could hear the sadness in that single, small exhalation. "No matter. There are a multitude of rules, but most shinigami never bother to learn them all; they have all of eternity for that, do they not? We can still remember all those that we learnt whilst we ourselves were still shinigami, but they are many and confusing. Would you like for me to detail them to you?"

"That won't be necessary, Wicked. Just give me the main ones," Light groaned softly, hesitant. He knew that the amount Wicked would talk depended entirely on her current mood, which was liable to change in seconds and without any warning. Engaging in conversation with her was often about as moronic and suicidal as willingly smothering oneself in fish scraps and leaping into a shark infested tank, knowing full well that afore mentioned sharks had never once been fed.

...Light really needed to work on that melodrama issue of his.

"As you wish. Rule number one; the human whose name is written in this note shall die. Are you with me so far?"

"Just get on with it, Wicked," Light ground from between teeth that were clenched hard enough to crush diamond to powder.

"Patience is a virtue, Light Yagami. Rule number two; this note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his or her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected. Rule number three; if the cause of death it written within forty seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen. Similarly, if the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack. Once the cause of death has been written, details of the death should be written in the next six minutes and forty seconds," Wicked said, her voice completely flat, as though she were bored senseless by the entire topic of conversation.

"I see," Light murmured, his forehead creasing as he matched each of the rules to the information he already knew about Kira. "A name and face are both necessary to kill, and a person can be killed in any way you could possibly imagine?" The thought of such a potent weapon being in the hands of humans; Light shuddered to think what most would do with something so powerful.

"Oh no, even the death note is incapable of achieving the impossible – if a condition that is physically impossible is specified, then the person will simply die of a heart attack. There is also a time limit of far ahead you can plan a death... though I can't remember exactly what it was..." Wicked's voice trailed off thoughtfully, and Light ran an agitated hand through his hair, tugging gently on the strands as he thought.

"Is there anything else _at all_ that you remember?" Light asked exasperatedly, already growing tired of the talking. He wanted to be out, _doing_ something about Kira. In that respect, Light was very much like almost every other vampire in existence; despite their long lives, vampires as a general rule were unbelievably impatient, and this forced inactivity was driving Light to the brink of insanity, before chasing him in manic circles as he teetered on the edge of losing his mind.

"Suicide is a valid cause of death?" She suggested, though her voice held no great hope; she probably already knew that to Light the information was about as useful as a wire-mesh bucket.

"Thank you, Wicked," Light sighed, about to give up and hang up.

"Wait! There's something else; it didn't occur to me before, as it was never applicable when I was still a shinigami, but vampires cannot see the lifespans of owners of the death note, including humans who possess a note." The words were rushed, as though Wicked knew that he had been mere seconds away from breaking the connection. Light felt his mouth curve into a smile; _that_ information was certainly useful.

"Thank you, Wicked," Light repeated; this time, he meant every word.

* * *

"Mello, how do you keep getting my number?" L asked agitatedly the instant Watari connected the two of them.

"Matt," was all that Mello said, and L felt that it said a lot that that was the only explanation he needed. Matt – the third in line for the L name after Near and Mello – had always been most comfortable with technology; games, computers, security systems, his skills were almost unparalleled. Almost – L was willing to bet that C could give him a run for his money, though the deduction was based on mere intuition and on C's displays of intelligence in the past.

"I understand. However, just because you've managed to contact me, doesn't mean I'm going to allow you to work with me on the Kira case with me," L said, heading Mello off; every time L took on a new large-profile case, Mello would try this trick. Every time, L turned him down.

"Actually, _L_," Mello spoke his title mockingly, still completely unaware that it was actually L's real name; L doubted Mello would use the name so lightly if he did know. "I called to tell you that I'm going to be working on this too, alone. If I catch Kira before you or the sheep, then I'll have to be named your heir, right?" Mello's voice when he described Near was brimming with bitterness and hatred. Something that was hardly surprising, as Mello's competitive nature had never allowed him to get along with Near; Matt was another matter, as he had been below Mello for most of their lives, and followed him like a loyal puppy.

"Mello, if I remember correctly-" which of course, he did "-you forfeited all rights as my successor when you left the Wammy House on this great and mysterious quest of yours," L retorted, with perhaps the slightest trace of bitterness; he had never quite gotten over the fact that Mello – who simply _idolised _him – had not trusted him enough to detail to him the precise nature of this 'quest'.

Of course, he was also ridiculously proud that the emotional boy had learnt to keep his mouth shut.

"No, when I left Wammy's I forfeited rights to compete with the cotton-bud for the title. I never said I didn't still want it."

"I see. Was there anything else you wished to tell me, whilst you just so happen to be hacked into my system?" L asked, only now noticing the strange activity in his files which could only mean that Matt had successfully broken down his numerous security systems and was now sifting through his data.

"Yeah. Stay the hell away from the freak C; he'd kill you soon as look at you," Mello said, something new and unidentifiable in his voice. L was surprised at the strength of his resentfulness on C's behalf; for whatever reason, hearing C described as a freak – particularly by Mello who was by no means normal – made L's gut twist with something very close to rage.

Calming himself, L raised a brow that Mello couldn't see from wherever the hell he was. C, kill him? As far as he knew, C had never killed anyone; if he had, it would have probably been the best murder case to happen in centuries, and would have very quickly caught L's attention. So why would C kill L, someone he most likely saw as a colleague or perhaps even an ally?

"I'll certainly bear that in mind," L replied pleasantly, deciding there and then that if he were ever to discover C's true identity and location, he was going to march up to the man and introduce himself just to spite Mello. "How do you know so much about C?"

"Ah, tricks of the trade, little L. Maybe one day I'll tell you... Oh, Matt's done copying your stuff. Gotta go, later." The line disconnected with a click, and L sighed angrily, thoroughly irritated that all Mello had told him about C was the utter opposite to what L wanted to hear. Not to mention, it seemed that Mello and Matt now had access to all of his files – perhaps he should give up and go back to the ever-infallible system of post-it notes.

Then again, perhaps not.

* * *

_When Naomi awoke, she was lying on her uncomfortable hotel bed once again, wondering if her meeting had been nothing more than a strange dream induced by malnutrition and lack of sleep. Maybe Raye was onto something when he accused her of working too hard..._

_All thoughts of dreams, Raye and work flew from her mind when she saw the young man – _Light Yagami, _her traitorous mind provided – sitting calmly in a chair by her bedside, flicking idly through a magazine and occasionally shaking his head despairingly at whatever story he had been reading. His lips had quirked into the slightest of smiles, and Naomi couldn't help but think that it made the boy – _no, vampire,_ she thought – look more than a little demonic. Still, she supposed that that was only to be expected from one of the undead._

"_You're awake, I see," he said, somewhat hypocritically since he hadn't so much as glanced up from his magazine. Naomi groaned and fell back against the bed, shutting her eyes against the image of the over-confident teenager who wasn't a teenager at all._

"_No shit, Sherlock," Naomi retorted somewhat instinctively, the joke only enhanced by the fact that the man sitting before her was _C_, one of the greatest detectives of the modern age._

"_Miss. Misora, if you wish to foolishly attempt to insult my rather considerable intelligence, would you please at least have the decency to choose an original comeback," C – _Light_, she reminded herself silently – requested, his tone pleasant, which somehow made his words all the more mocking._

_Naomi chose to ignore him, muster what remained of her dignity, and stalk out of the room with her head held high. She had not, however, counted on still being unsteady from her rather brief fainting spell; she swung her legs over the bed and stood, before collapsing when her legs decided that they really didn't want to take her weight after all. _

_C caught her before she could hit the floor, and she quickly stood up, waving away his help and concern, now certain that her already-fragile pride was completely beyond redemption. Ha... _Beyond _redemption... her shock-addled mind found that inexplicably hilarious, and Light could only watch with a bemused and mildly disturbed look as she doubled over laughing. Naomi felt almost sorry for the guy; until she reminded herself that not only was he one of the best detectives around, but he was also a vampire..._

_... Not to mention her new employer. How did she manage to get herself into these situations in the first place?_

"_Are you okay?" He asked, his voice concerned and surprisingly... human. As though he was no different to her, really. Except that he wasn't, and she needed to remember that._

"_I'm fine," Naomi said haughtily, brushing herself off and heading to the kitchen, where she opened the cupboards and began rummaging around for coffee; heavens knows she needed it._

"_Is it not rude to refrain from offering your guest a drink?" Light asked, and despite herself, Naomi shivered at his darkly humorous tone. Was he being serious, or was this his way of mocking human customs?_

"_I'm sorry, but I'm fresh out of O-negative," Naomi said scathingly, though all that seemed to do was fuel Light's amusement. _

"_What gave you the impression that I can only drink blood?" He asked, his eyes dancing with malicious pleasure, much to Naomi's anger. She gritted her teeth so hard that she was certain Light was able to hear it; him along with every other being – alive or dead – in this building._

"_Can't you?" Naomi asked despite herself, as she waited impatiently for the kettle to boil. She leant back against the counter, praying desperately that the rather shabby structure would not collapse beneath her weight._

"_Vampires have no need for any other sustenance, no, but it is commonly accepted that we eat and drink when in company; to keep up appearances, you understand. Also, vampires suffer from cravings just as much as humans do; I myself am rather partial to barbeque flavour potato chips." Light shrugged unconcernedly, not in the slightest bothered by the strange turn the conversation had taken._

"_... Alright then," Naomi finally replied, grateful for the sudden shrill whistle that indicated the kettle had boiled. Quickly pouring herself a cup of much-needed caffeinated-goodness, Naomi was rather forcefully reminded of the cup prepared for her by Beyond Birthday; a so-called 'drink' that was so saturated with sugar that she could no longer stand to classify the gloop as coffee._

_Light smiled quietly as he watched her sip at her coffee with sharp, piercing eyes; Naomi felt that he was capable of looking straight through her, of unravelling the many layers and personas that made her who she was; Light could see her for who she was, and that frightened her._

_More than that, though; there was something terribly sad in his expression which – however illogically – sparked Naomi's protective, maternal instinct. Light himself probably would have strangled her if he could hear her thoughts, and strictly speaking, she _knew _that he didn't want or need her protection. She would probably be more of a hindrance than a help; regardless, she wanted to wrap the poor boy in a hug and tell him that she was there for him._

"_So, C," she said cheekily, deciding that this approach was far safer for all involved. "When does my shift start?"_

* * *

Naomi Misora couldn't even begin to describe how overjoyed she was to be back in Japan; don't get her wrong, she did love America, and would be quite happy to live there for the rest of her life – however long or short that may be, as Light refused to tell her – but there was something about Japan. Perhaps it was simply that she had grown up here on this beautiful, historic island.

Then again, Tokyo reminded her very much of every other city she had ever visited; over-polluted, over-crowded and full of crime.

That was not why she was there, she reminded herself furiously. Naomi had left the FBI at Raye's insistence, and though she would sometimes receive instructions from Light, such instances were very few and far between. It seemed that both men wanted her to be safe, though for different reasons; Raye loved her, and only wanted the very best for her in life, whereas Light was probably more afraid of losing one of the only proxies he knew he could trust.

Either way, life had become unbelievably mundane for her in the past year or so – she had taken up no less than three different martial arts (Judo, Taekwon-do and the ever popular Ju-jitsu) had taken painting lessons (which she had quickly decided were not for her after all) and had bought a house back in the States, which she was currently in the process of renovating.

All in all, Naomi missed her life as an agent and her life as C's eyes and ears amongst humans. Visiting her parents was all very well, and she could see how proud of her they were, but Naomi couldn't help but wish for something more... _exciting_.

Or so she thought, meandering through the darkened streets, searching for something to do. She wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for, and she knew that this area was particularly dangerous, but Naomi felt that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself against other humans, and when it came to vampires, well...

Since the day Light Yagami had visited her dingy hotel room, she hadn't removed her ring, and she had insisted that Raye do the same. He wore his on his thumb, whilst she wore hers on a chain around her neck, but the principle remained the same. She never went anywhere without it, and usually wore it at home too, just in case. After all, you couldn't be too careful with vampires around.

Walking down the road, Naomi was slightly discomfited to notice a gang of three youths watching her unabashedly from across the road; a girl and two boys, they couldn't have been older than twenty two or twenty three, yet when she looked at them, Naomi felt shivers down her spine that reminded her uncomfortably of past meetings with Light. The girl blinked a couple of times, and muttered something to the others, before they all burst out laughing; Naomi felt a slight blush heat her cheeks, unable to shake the feeling that they were laughing at her.

Staring ahead determinedly, Naomi ignored them as well as she knew how – which was pretty damn well, she had to admit. Turning to her left, she walked down into one of the smaller side-streets that were so common in this area of the city. However, she had miscalculated; this street was a dead end. Sighing quietly and turning around to walk back, Naomi froze, standing stock still when she saw the three people blocking her exit; there was no way humans could have moved that fast.

_Definitely vampires,_ Naomi decided, backing up slowly, hands in the air. She didn't know if these were the kill-and-dispose-of-all-evidence-sort, the don't-kill-and-erase-memories sort or the sloppy eaters, so she decided to play it safe.

"You smell nice," the taller boy commented, his face split into a broad grin that was both entrancing and terrifying. Naomi thought that perhaps she should just feign ignorance.

"I- I beg your pardon?" She asked incredulously, keeping her wide eyes fixed on the three of them in case they tried anything; she had to remind her hand not to creep up to her neck and clasp the ring that hung there.

"Now now, Naomi Misora, you're an intelligent woman; what do you think I said?" He asked, his red eyes glittering in the darkness while the other two looked on with faintly amused expressions.

"I think that you should stay the hell away from me," Naomi said, her voice as strong and steady as she could manage to keep it in this situation.

"Why would we do that?" Asked the girl, her bright green eyes sharp on Naomi's face. The shorter, stocky boy with a multitude of facial tattoos stared at her, his face creased as though he were deep in thought; Naomi couldn't even begin to speculate what he might be thinking about.

"Because I'm protected," Naomi announced imperiously, pulling the chain out from under her shirt, and holding up the ring for the vampires' inspection. They barely glanced at it; the shorter of the boys narrowed his eyes in a furious glare.

"By whom?" He asked, and his voice was positively evil.

"Light Yagami," Naomi responded, not certain if it was the right answer to give; she didn't know how well known Light was in the vampire world, nor did she know anything of his reputation. She had either just condemned herself or saved herself from a horrible fate. If these vampires held some sort of grudge against Light, then they may well kill her, simply to spite him. If they got on well with Light, respected him or even feared him, then she might have been able to talk her way out of a horrific death.

The reactions of the three vampires was a sight to see; the tall boy burst into caws of raucous laughter, while the stocky boy shrieked furiously, a stream of curses falling from his lips. The girl's eyes widened so far that they appeared to take up most of her face.

Before Naomi could so much as blink, a phone was in the girl's hand, and she dialled furiously, a scowl taking residence on her face as she waited for the person on the other end to pick up the phone.

"Light, it's Akuma. Yeah. Hi to you too. Now, care to tell me why there's a human called Naomi Misora who just so happens to have your – yes, _your_ – protection?"

* * *

**Dear oh dear, Light's in for it now. What will Akuma do? What will Light do? What will I do? What will you do (Reviewnowpleasemindcontrol)?**


	9. Encounter

**... This chapter was so much _fun_ to write - I'm sure you'll see why later! Also, sorry for the slight delay in updating; my laptop caught a virus, so it took me a while to get that all fixed... but it's fine now, so it's back to updating :D**

**PS, any guesses as to who Kira might be? I thought I'd made it obvious, but nobody's said anything yet, so I'm kinda wondering...**

**Death Note: Seriously, do I need to keep repeating this? Yes? Fine; I DON'T OWN DEATH NOTE!**

**Chapter 8: Encounter**

* * *

Light swallowed, his tongue suddenly feeling remarkably heavy and dry in his mouth; of course, the time Akuma decides to go human-taunting, Naomi would happen to be in Japan, in the same city, the same damn _street._

"She works for me," Light said, deciding that in this instance, honesty was probably the best policy; if he lied to Akuma now and she ever found out, she would skin him alive. A highly unpleasant mental image, and a situation that he dearly wished to avoid at all costs.

"Oh _right._ That makes _all _the difference; she _works _for you. And for that reason, you decided that it was _okay_ to just go ahead and blab the fact that, oh, you're a friggin' _vampire_, not to _mention_ that little snippet that all other vampires now _can't touch her. _Do you have _any_ idea what a normal human being would do with that kind of information? Huh? You utter _idiot_!" Akuma was breathing hard; in the background, Light could hear Kietheren's wild laughter and Warui's violent cursing. All in all, it sounded like something from a bad horror movie.

"Akuma, I'm..." Light began, but she cut him off before he could so much as begin to apologise for something that he felt he shouldn't be apologising for; either way, it was better by far to keep Akuma sweet.

"Oh no! Don't you fucking _dare_! Don't you dare try and say that you're sorry and expect everything to be just fine and dandy again! Do you have even the slightest idea of what you've _done _here? You've only gone and bloody well put our entire friggin' _species_ at risk; but it's _fine _because this human _works _for you. Do you realise what could happen if she decides to tell one person – _one person_ – about us? If word of vampires gets out, we're fucking _doomed_. Because God forbid any human should try to _accept _us. It'll be just like the freaking Middle Ages all over again; only this time they have weapons that might actually _work_ against us, you _shithead_!"

That was the longest rant Akuma had ever managed in the space of about thirty seconds, and despite himself, Light was quite impressed. It was also the most he had ever heard her swear in five years combined; that more than anything told Light precisely how angry she was with him.

"When the hell did your three remaining brain cells shrivel up and die, huh Light? Don't you think it would have been nice of you to fucking _ask_ us before going ahead and spilling your life story to a complete freaking _stranger_? Well? Damn well _answer_ me, Light!"

"Akuma, I would answer you if you'd only let me get a word in edgeways," Light sighed, already tired of her continuous berating.

"So now you're trying to blame _me_?" She shrieked, making Light wince as her voice echoed through his apartment. He wouldn't be surprised if he had neighbours knocking to complain about the noise level soon.

"How the hell can you have that much nerve? After _everything_ we've done for you, you then have the _audacity_ to put every single one of us at risk _and_ _then_ try to say I'm unreasonable when I get upset? Well _fuck you_, Light," she growled, sparking off a whole new bought of laughter on Kietheren's part, whilst Warui muttered about how he had never trusted Light.

"Akuma, calm down, or give the phone to somebody else," Light said, voice commanding and infuriated.

"No, Light! I will not friggin' calm down! I just find out that it's very likely we're going to go extinct, and I freak out – the instant I've calmed down and decided to go out to cheer myself up, guess who we run into? God Light, I can't even _begin _to describe exactly how _pissed off _I am right now!"

"Yoink!" Cried Kietheren suddenly, triumphantly; there was the slight sound of footsteps; one chasing the other, which danced out of reach, and Light assumed that Kietheren had stolen the phone when Akuma was distracted yelling at him.

"Hello, Kietheren," Light greeted him dully, no longer able to summon any semblance of enthusiasm into the conversation.

"Hey, hey, Lighty-boy. Looks like you really screwed up this time, huh?" Kietheren asked, completely unable to take any of this seriously.

"_I _don't think so," Light retorted, clearly indicating that he didn't feel hiring and protecting Naomi Misora was a mistake.

"Figures," Kietheren snorted. "You _don't _think, and that's your problem. Akuma might've taken it too far, but she did have a good point. Telling even one human about yourself could put every vampire alive at risk, dipshit." Kietheren didn't sound concerned in the slightest, and Light wondered if he was only agreeing with Akuma so that she didn't murder him later.

"Kietheren, I knew exactly what I was doing; you know as well as I do that she's trustworthy. I don't think there's another human I would trust more with my secret," Light lied through his teeth – he would almost certainly trust L with his secret, if he ever met the man. L was perhaps the only human who was as secretive as a vampire; should Light ever tell him his secret, he intuitively knew that L would keep quiet.

"It's not me you need to convince, Light-o," Kietheren replied absently, and Light could almost hear the shrug in his voice. "Gah! Akuma, I'm trying to talk!" He yelled, and Akuma shrieked some obscenity at him.

"Warui, keep her away from me while I talk to Light," Kietheren requested, his voice exasperated. "Anyway, what should we do with her, Light? We can't exactly leave her here; this place is full of weirdoes."

"Yes; _you_ are there after all," Light replied sarcastically, unable to pass up the opportunity to get one-up on Kietheren.

"Touché," Kietheren laughed. "Don't know how I didn't see that coming. Seriously though, what d'you want us to do?" He asked, switching suddenly from light and cheerful to deathly serious.

"Take her back to the house; I'll be there as soon as I can, and we can explain everything from the beginning," Light sighed, deciding that Naomi at least deserved that much.

"You're sure that's a good idea?" Kietheren asked sceptically. Technically, he knew that Light was smarter than he could ever hope to be, but he had thousands of years more experience than Light in the real world; Light could understand why his friend might be a little concerned for his sanity.

"Just do it, Kietheren," Light growled, before hanging up the phone so that he wouldn't have a chance to respond. He sighed, staring sadly around the room. He knew he would have to face the anger of the others eventually, but right now, he really didn't want to leave the security of his room. Drifting slowly to the drawer, Light checked that the strange mirror was still safe, before locking it away, along with everything that could possibly link him to C. Though the lock itself probably wouldn't deter most people, Light hoped that the booby trap and false bottom would do the trick.

Grabbing a black woollen coat, Light stepped out into the corridor, locking the door behind him and striding down the corridor, coat billowing behind him. Let it never be said that Light didn't have a flair for the theatrics.

He could hear gentle snores emanating from most of the other apartments; the sounds of TVs and computers echoed from the others. Light's steps were quick and quiet; his hands tucked inside his pockets as he repeatedly told himself that this sort of thing was better to simply get out of the way quickly.

The night air was pleasant enough – Light didn't notice the cold nearly as much as he had done when his skin was still frail and human, so the temperature didn't bother him in the slightest. It wasn't raining, and there was plenty of light to see by, even for human standards, thought admittedly, the dark was no longer something that impaired Light in any way. Still, trying to appear human to the few passers-by, Light shivered and huddled deeper into his coat.

He couldn't go over the rooftops from here; someone might notice, and that was the last thing he needed. So, Light resigned himself to a long walk and a tedious train-ride.

Huffing quietly, Light stepped around the half-constant puddles that seemed to be a strange combination of plain rainwater and petrol, not wanting to ruin his shoes. Unfortunately, his habit of puddle-dodging meant that an awful lot of his mind was focused on the pavement beneath his feet; he failed to notice the elderly gentleman walking in the other direction until they collided, sending plastic bags flying.

Light stood up quickly, brushing himself off, before holding out his hand to the man he had unwittingly knocked to the ground. The elderly man accepted it somewhat gratefully, a rueful smile on his face as he picked up the numerous bags – Light was struck by the scent of cake and sugar almost immediately.

"I'm very sorry about that," the man said gently, and Light immediately brushed the apology away.

"Not at all; the fault was all mine," Light paused meaningfully, waiting for the man to give his name – of course, Light already knew what it was, but he felt it was polite to ask nonetheless.

Quillish Wammy paused for a few seconds before answering with a secretive smile. "Mihael Jeevas."

* * *

_Light slipped past the sentries like they weren't there; though they might have been trained against vampires, their human senses weren't nearly sharp enough to defend themselves against him. He smothered his laughter, dancing through the security cameras' blind spots; ones that he had discovered earlier after hacking into the system. Despite himself, Light was impressed by the levels of security used by the small group of slayers. _

_Rolling his eyes, Light broke the lock on the door that obstructed his passage, stepping to the side as a cloud of holy water vapour was squirted into the air – predictable and easy to work around. Light simply held his breath and stepped through the cloud quickly, squinting his eyes and covering his ears, trying to ensure that there were as few places for the holy water to get into his system as possible._

_Emerging on the other side, Light paused to take a moment and call to mind the blueprint he had memorised earlier; the next left would lead him to the place he needed to be._

_Now that he was so close, Light could smell the cloying scent of garlic – though not harmful in the long run, short-term the strong scent could damage a vampire's sense of smell, thus weakening them, and making them unable to distinguish between various scents._

_However, beneath that revolting smell Light could just about detect the chocolate-sweet and smoky scent that signalled he was nearing his targets. Light had kept his promise; he hadn't forgotten Mihael Keehl and Mail Jeevas. He had been slightly shocked at how difficult it had been to track them both down, but using his own skills and the advice of several vampires he had a good working relationship with, Light had finally found them two years later._

_Arrogance was so much fun, Light decided as he threw open the doors to the office, striding confidently into the room, having already disabled the traps with his computer. Mihael and Mail – or Mello and Matt, as they had dubbed themselves – had changed physically as well as the more subtle mental changes that Light sensed. They had been stripped of any baby fat they might have retained and they dressed differently, Mihael in particular; skin-tight leather and black gloves rather than the baggy jeans and dark shirt from Light's memory. Yet there was more to it than that – they were stronger emotionally, and Light could both sense it and see it in their eyes._

_Still, it was most certainly amusing to watch them leap about a foot away from one another when the door crashed against the wall, hands automatically reaching for their weapons. All in all, it was thoroughly entertaining, though Light was admittedly quite accustomed to such reactions from humans._

_He held up both of his hands in mock-surrender, sauntering towards the two boys with a lazy smirk etched on his face. This was child's play, yet so much more entertaining than upholding the appearance of being human._

"_Who are you? What the fuck do you want?" Mih – sorry, _Mello, _asked. His use of profanity, though strictly unnecessary, was somewhat understandable in this stressful situation, Light acknowledged. _

"_You mean you don't remember me? Mihael, I'm hurt," Light said tauntingly, his smirk widening impossibly further. Mello's eyes grew to the point when they appeared to take over his face completely, and Light allowed himself a quiet laugh._

"_Now then, I just have a few questions I would like to ask you both," he said, his eyes glowing red._

* * *

Naomi hadn't known quite what to expect, but if there was one thing that working for Light had taught her, it was to always remain in control. So the gasp that bubbled in her throat never made it past her lips when the three vampires led her up the gravel driveway towards the beautiful manor-style house. Stone gargoyles adorned the roof, whilst a marble fountain stood strong and proud on the grassy lawn. Naomi had never before seen a building like this in Japan; in fact, she didn't think she'd ever seen a building like this outside of a dark fairytale.

She felt as though her eyes were going to pop out of her skull when the red-haired girl strode forwards, throwing open the solid oak doors as though they were made of plastic, and stormed into the house without so much as a backward glance. The two boys exchanged an unfathomable glance before following her, and Naomi hesitated slightly before stepping over the threshold after them. The red-haired girl – hadn't she called herself Akuma? Demon? – shrugged out of her cropped leather jacket, hanging it on the coat stand and sprinting across the room and up the broad stairs, taking them four at a time.

The two boys also took their coats off, and Naomi's eyes widened slightly when she realised what they were wearing. The smaller boy had layered shirts and jackets like there was no tomorrow, and his jewellery looked lethal; the other wore a pair of leather trousers and no shirt.

So apparently vampires didn't care about blending in too much.

"What is this?" Asked a new voice from the top of the stairs. Naomi glanced up, biting her lip almost until it bled at the sight of the young woman standing there. Her skin was pale enough to be almost white, her eyes were utterly white, and even her hair was silver; she looked as though all of the colour had drained from her long ago.

"_This_ is Light's employee," snapped a voice from upstairs, loud enough that even Naomi could hear her. The colourless girl raised a silver eyebrow.

"Oh? Is there a reason I've never before been told of her?" She asked curiously, leaping down the stairs, her bare feet making no noise against the dark carpet.

"No worries, Wicked; we didn't know about her until earlier today. Light told us to bring her back here, and he said that he'll be coming over later on," the taller boy said, leaping up and running up the oak banister, yelling for someone called Ienipa to 'get her skinny British butt downstairs now or else'.

"I apologise for Kietheren and Akuma's rudeness, Naomi Misora," the pale girl said, her voice remarkably close to emotionless. White eyes followed Naomi's every move, and Naomi felt the heat rise to her face under the sharp scrutiny. Naomi nodded, biting her lip awkwardly and looking away, desperate to find something to distract herself with. It seemed that some higher power was on her side; a boy's head popped around one of the doors, and despite herself, Naomi was intrigued by the number of facial piercings he wielded.

"Would you like anything to drink? Tea, coffee, water, juice, wine...?" He asked Naomi politely, and his voice was calm; soothing.

"Coffee, please," Naomi requested, her voice shaking slightly, something that wouldn't go unnoticed by the vampires, she knew. The boy bobbed his head pleasantly before slipping back out of the room, and Naomi turned questioningly to the pale girl.

"That was Yoru, one of the more agreeable in the coven," she explained, idly examining her nails.

"... I see," Naomi said slowly, shooting meaningful glances at the woman, which were either going unnoticed or being studiously ignored.

"So this is her?" Asked yet another new voice; honestly, how many of them were there, hanging about the place? Ha... hanging, vampires, bats. Naomi's mind was making obscure connections, the way it always did when she was under pressure; in a way, she supposed that was probably a good thing. It had, after all, allowed her to solve the LABB murder cases, even if Light _had _managed it first.

"You betcha," the tall boy said, laughing joyously as he slid down the banister, leaping off when he reached the bottom, landing lightly a few feet away from Naomi. "Hey again," he said, waving cheerfully. Cautiously, Naomi waved back, though she was unsure as to how foolish it may or may not be to encourage him.

"Name's Kietheren," he said, holding out an abrupt hand for a western style handshake. Naomi tentatively grasped the proffered hand, and was almost surprised by how carefully he held her hand, as though he was almost afraid of hurting her. "Whitey over there's Wicked; blondie's Ienipa; this here's Warui; the guy that went to get your drink is Yoru, and the moody cow upstairs is Akuma." An unintelligible scream echoed through the house, but there was still no sign of 'moody-cow' Akuma.

"Now then, why do we not wait in the lounge for the return of Light Yagami?" Wicked asked somewhat rhetorically, already heading away down one of the numerous corridors. "I'm sure he will be here soon, and then the real explanations can begin."

* * *

"Nice to meet you, Mihael," Light smiled, wondering idly if this man was the Wammy of Wammy's orphanage where Mihael Keehl and Mail Jeevas had grown up, whilst simultaneously examining theories as to why he felt a fake name was necessary. "My name is Hikaru Yamaguchi."

"A pleasure," Quillish said affably, straightening up and preparing to leave. "Well, if you'll excuse me..."

"Are you sure that you can manage alright with those bags?" Light asked, feigning concern as he hid his smile. It wouldn't take much to convince the human to allow him to help, and as they walked, Light could gather information from the man, and wipe his memories if necessary. "I could help you, if you like?"

Light made his voice as charming and persuasive as possible, so that by the time his mind touched the human's, Quillish had almost made his decision.

"I would be most grateful for the help," he said, passing a couple of the bags to Light; to him, their weight was virtually nonexistent, yet he knew that to a human they would be close to unbearable. So, to retain his image, Light grimaced and shifted slightly.

"Wow, did they give you bricks or something?" Light asked, laughing as naturally as he knew how, altering his grip on the bags to make it seem as though he was struggling.

"Well, I do wonder," Quillish laughed, heading off down the street – in the opposite direction to where Light needed to be. Damn. Nevertheless, Light strode quickly after the man, determined to take at least one piece of useful information away from this meeting.

"Who are these all for? Not just for you, surely?" Light asked, deciding that it seemed quite human and normal to wonder as to the purpose behind so many varieties of cake and dessert – though a human wouldn't have realised exactly how many different types there were hidden within the bags. Light however, could smell all of the different flavours; it was making him crave human food, which was slightly worrying.

"Oh no, most of it's for my... ward, I guess you could say," Quillish replied, pausing uncomfortably before the word 'ward', as though he would much rather have used another word to describe his relationship with this person.

"Ah, I see," Light responded, his tone somewhat teasing. "Would it be rude of me to ask why your ward needs this much cake?"

"I think he must be an addict," Quillish said, smiling fondly, his eyes warm, and Light wondered if he'd misread the signals; perhaps this mysterious person really was Quillish's ward. Light quickly shook off the doubt; he was never wrong when reading people. Maybe this person was Quillish's ward... but primarily something else. His employer? "He claims that it helps him when he's working on cases."

A detective then? Light knew that Wammy's was an orphanage for young prodigies, but he had never really thought about it beyond that; after the Beyond Birthday fiasco, Light had taken it upon himself to discover everything about the man, and some of what he had found wsa really rather fascinating. Particularly the information - and lack thereof - about the Wammy House. Perhaps this man's ward had also grown up there. Light smiled slightly at the thought of meeting another genius detective; what an interesting twist of fate that would be. For him to finally meet someone who shared not only his ability but also his passion, his need to solve crimes would be a dream come true. Or not, considering the highly disturbing content of the majority of his dreams, but still.

"This is me," Quillish said suddenly, stopping outside of a hotel; Light glanced up, not having paid the slightest mind to their route, and felt his breath freeze in his lungs when he saw where they were. This was L's hotel; the same L who had seen Light fall from the rooftop opposite, the same L who had a proxy named Watari... the same L who had been sitting beside a table crammed with food...

Light bit his lip against the sudden wave of laughter that bubbled in his throat; this man was Watari, he couldn't be anyone else. Quillish Wammy, Watari, Mihael Jeevas, they were all just different names for this man. Light smiled and handed the bags over to Quillish, taking a moment to stare into the man's eyes and tentatively probe his mind – he could sense gratitude, but there was also a strong feeling of urgency. Light decided to make this quick, so that the man wouldn't be late for whatever it was that needed his attention.

"Please give me your phone," Light commanded quietly, red-tinted brown eyes boring into the suddenly glazed eyes of Quillish Wammy.

"Of course," the poor human muttered, handing it over immediately. Light almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

"Forget my name and my face," Light said, his hand closing over the phone and tucking it in his pocket for safekeeping.

"Of course."

"And tell L that C said hello."

* * *

**Woohoo! I got to swear _so much _in this chapter!!**

**Okay, as you can probably tell, I messed around completely with the Death Note timeline and ages and what have you; so, to help you guys out, here is a quick timeline detailing important events and stuff.**

**2004; aged 14, Matt and Mello leave the Wammy house to hunt vampires. Light is 16, still human, L is 18 has been solving cases for 3 years, Near is 13 and Sayu is 8.  
2005; Light is changed into a vampire, aged 17. Two months later, he leaves his coven, and doesn't see them again for two years.  
2006; Light begins his career as C, aged 18. Also moves to England later on in the year.  
2007; Light's first encounter with Matt and Mello the vampire slayers. He is 19 (but still looks 17), they are _actually _17.  
2008; whilst in America, Light captures Beyond Bithday and meets Naomi Misora. About a week later, he visits her again, and requests her services. She agrees.  
2009; Light tracks down Matt and Mello again, for unknown purposes (God, that sounded bad XD) He is 21, they are 19.  
2010; present day. Everything that isn't in italics is happening in this timeframe. Light is 22, L is 24, Matt+Mello are 20, Near is 19, Sayu is 14, Watari is about 300 and the others are their usual, background ages.**

**Hope that helped!**


	10. Doubt

**Yay! Another update! Sorry this one took a little while longer, my internet went kaput; still, it's all better now! Also, more mindf***ery. Double yay!**

**Death Note; you know the drill - s'not mine. Sniffle.**

**Chapter 9: Doubt**

* * *

"_Now then, Mihael, I'll admit I'm quite curious about you; do you realise that it took me two years to track you down? An impressive achievement, for a human."_

"_I _am _impressive," Mello sneered, with every semblance of complete confidence – Light could already smell the adrenaline filtering into his bloodstream; it smelled delicious. However, Light wasn't here for a snack, and he needed to remember that._

"_Hm, I'm sure Mail can attest to _that_, but such things are irrelevant at this moment in time. Believe it or not, I really am here to ask you a few questions," Light grinned casually, setting the two humans' nerves on edge. "I won't hurt you; swear on my grave."_

"_As though we can trust a _vampire!_" Mello spat furiously, his icy blue eyes sparking with the strength of his conviction; Light only smiled wider, finding the human's anger rather... amusing. _

"_Well maybe you should; change your outlook a little. Either way, you _will_ be answering my questions, Mihael." Light settled himself on the leather sofa, whilst Mello and Matt looked on, uncertain of whether they would be justified in killing him. On the one hand, he was a vampire – to them, that was reason enough to kill him. On the other hand... he had almost all of the advantages. He knew who they were, it was the middle of the night and he could control them as much as he wished; though they didn't know that, of course._

"_Yes," Mello agreed, his voice slightly distant, and Light smiled broadly as his hold on the boy's mind tightened. From the corner of his eyes, Light saw Matt start towards him, murder in his eyes. Idly, Light drew the gun that had remained concealed inside his coat and aimed it in Mello's direction, lazily flicking off the safety as he watched Matt with raised eyebrows, daring him to make a move. Of course, Light didn't want to kill Mello – particularly not before he gained any information – but Matt didn't need to know that. Mello remained impassive and blissfully unaware._

"_One more step and I'll shoot," Light said, the silent challenge and promise in his eyes all too clear to Matt. The redhead stopped where he was._

"_Good choice," Light approved, before turning back to Mello, his eyes shifting in colour slightly, a few more shades towards red. "Now Mihael, down to business. Why do you kill vampires?"_

"_We don't kill vampires; they're already dead!" Matt snarled angrily in the background; Light ignored him._

"_When I was ten years old, my mother was killed by a vampire. She was the only family I had left, and I couldn't turn her murderer in to the police because they would never have believed my story. I wanted to avenge my mother and protect others; I wanted to make sure that vampires couldn't get away with murder any longer," Mello said, his voice devoid of all emotion, and despite himself, Light felt the barest shiver of empathy trace down his spine. He knew precisely how furious he would be if it were his mother that had been killed. Still..._

"_Well, I'll admit that I can understand your reasoning, but your methods are sadly flawed. You will never be able to eliminate all of the vampires, and you seem to have conveniently overlooked the fact that simply removing the vampires from the world is not enough to protect everyone. In truth, you would probably be better wiping out the entirety of the human race," Light said thoughtfully. "Without humans, there can be no crime, no wars, no pollution... and certainly no vampires."_

* * *

L knew from the moment Watari stepped in the door that something was severely wrong. Usually, Watari's presence would be announced by the cheerful call of, 'Cake, Ryuzaki!' Today, there was nothing, and L was in a near panic by the time Watari entered the lounge area of their hotel suite. The sight of the man who had been like a father to him for so many years did nothing to alleviate his fear – Watari's eyes were glassy and unfocused, despite L's desperate attempts to catch hold of his attention.

"Watari, it's me! L!" L cried finally, truly frightened by Watari's behaviour. At that, Watari's head whipped around as though possessed, his glazed eyes meeting L's in a sort of frenzy.

"L..." Watari said slowly, as though the letter was unfamiliar on his tongue. L felt shivers run down his spine at the sound of Watari's voice; it was empty, as dead as the Kira victims. Devoid of any semblance of feeling.

"Yes, that's right," L replied, his voice a strange blend of encouraging as well as his trademark brand of apathetic.

"... C says hello," Watari muttered faintly, blinking twice, slowly, as his eyes regained their focus and shine. L gaped for a moment, before gathering his wits – and his voice.

"What was that?" He asked quietly, unsure of whether to be worried, angry or overjoyed by this revelation.

"What was what?" Watari asked, his voice so innocent and confused that L wondered momentarily if he had misheard – no, that wasn't logical. He had heard correctly, but something seemed to have happened to Watari in the few short seconds between speaking and answering L's question. Of course, that wasn't entirely logical either, but L thought that it was the more likely option of the two.

"Watari, what do you remember from your trip to fetch me cake?" L asked, returning to his chair and curling up, hands resting on his knees in preparation for some serious theorising. His thought processes needed to be at their maximum level, he sensed, and if this was what it took for that to happen, then he was willing to go to any lengths.

_For C, _shut up. The two little voices in his mind – the voice of Lawliet and the voice of reason – were warring again; something that L, as a combination of the two, hated.

"Well, everything proceeded normally... until, on the way back, I ran into someone. A young man, I think; he wasn't paying attention to where he was going and knocked me over. He then apologised, and offered to assist me with the bags; I agreed... though I'm not entirely sure why. I suppose he just seemed to feel so guilty, that I let him help me. I remember we talked, but I can't really remember what about; it's all hazy. Then, he left when we arrived at the hotel."

"Is that all? He didn't tell you his name? What did he look like?" L asked urgently, the uncomfortable feeling that this was somewhat similar to an interrogation rising within him. Yet, Watari seemed perfectly capable of handling the pressure, and remained calm, despite his apparent lack of useful information.

"I'm sure he did, but I can't recall it," Watari said, his brow furrowing slightly as he thought. "I can't even remember his face... He was young, though, and I think he was handsome... possibly late teens. Well dressed, too."

"Alright, thank you," L sighed, absent-mindedly rubbing his feet together to try and keep the circulation going – though L hated to wear socks, he understood the importance of keeping his feet warm.

A sudden beeping made both men glance towards the coffee table beside the armchair, eyebrows raised. L's phone was ringing, though nobody but Watari had L's number.

"I expect Mello has once again made Matt track down my number," L sighed, reaching over to pick up the phone, pausing briefly to check the caller ID – a withheld number. L expected nothing less of Mello, though he supposed he would probably be able to trace the call should he feel the urge.

"Mello, is this really necessary?" L asked, irked by the blond's audacity; calling in the middle of the night like this, after their last conversation had turned so sour. L highly doubted that Mello would _ever_ apologise, so that possibility was immediately ruled out. Perhaps Mello had discovered some new information regarding the Kira case and wished to gloat; that, too, was highly unlikely. As though anyone would be able to solve a case quicker than L!

_Except maybe C,_ that irritating little voice murmured in his ear – the voice of self-doubt.

"Mello?" Asked a warm, distantly familiar voice, and L immediately cursed himself for speaking so openly. "No, I'm sorry to disappoint you, L, but Mello isn't here today. This is C."

It was about that point in time that all of L's thought processes decided to simultaneously shut down.

* * *

On the other end of the phone, Light smirked wickedly at the harsh intake of breath his declaration evoked. He laughed, the sound an interesting mixture of genuine amusement and sarcastic bitterness.

"What's the matter, L? Cat got your tongue?" Light asked teasingly, thoroughly enjoying this one-sided battle of words.

"Actually, I was wondering when you lost all of your considerable intelligence and decided to phone me – I could trace this call, if I wanted to," L replied, and Light was somewhat disappointed to hear that even Watari's personal phone disguised L's voice; Light would have liked to have heard what the greatest human detective sounded like.

"I would dearly love to see you try," Light grinned, turning another corner, his eyes widening delightedly when he realised that the street was empty; ignoring the fact that there may have been humans watching from nearby buildings, Light took three long, quick strides forward and leapt up onto one of the roofs, landing silently. Pausing for a brief moment to admire the view, Light sighed and began running.

"And why is that, C?" L asked, no emotion filtering through into the disguised voice; something that Light found greatly disappointing.

"This particular phone is programmed to be completely untraceable," Light said with a shrug, though of course, L couldn't see that. He leapt across the gap between two buildings, wondering momentarily if L could hear the whistle of the wind blowing past the phone. Then he decided that he really didn't care, and took another running jump, his woollen coat billowing behind him.

"And what makes you so sure that I L, the best detective currently alive, can't trace this call?" Asked the computerised voice, and Light felt his eyebrows rise at L's assumption. Alright, so maybe he was the best detective currently _alive_, but L didn't know that; he believed that C was human, after all. How rude of him.

"Because this is your phone," Light smirked, the sound of the other man's shocked intake of breath immensely satisfying to the young vampire.

* * *

_Light had been asking Mello questions for almost half an hour now, and he had discovered almost everything he wanted to know about the young man. Having been orphaned by a vampire at a young age, he had been sent to the Wammy House, which was essentially a training ground for young children with exceptional intelligence. There, he had started competing for the honour of being the next L; a much coveted title. _

_Light had been quite shocked to discover that Beyond Birthday had also attended Wammy's – though he knew that the insane murderer had been incredibly intelligent, he had never really considered the human any further than that. The thought of Beyond having a childhood was a strange one, and when he wondered what sort of childhood a person born with death eyes must have had, he felt faintly ill._

_Regardless, Light had also discovered a little more about this orphanage for 'gifted children' – it was essentially a place in which some sick human had decided to try and create L backups, in case the original was damaged, as though the humans were nothing more than pieces of machinery. Even _Light _couldn't bring himself to think of humans quite so dispassionately – after all, he physically couldn't live without them._

_The first attempt, A, had committed suicide; B had been second, and Light knew exactly what had happened to _him_. It seemed that Mello, Matt and one other – Near – had been the next generation of replacements._

_That had all ended, however, when Mello and Matt had left the orphanage with a small group of vampire slayers they had met; they were fourteen at the time. Just a couple of years later, they had formed their own band of vampire slayers, and were doing everything in their power to kill any vampires they came across – regardless of what that vampire had or hadn't done in their life and afterlife. _

_Had they only been killing violent vampires, or ones who slaughtered for fun, then Light might have been more sympathetic to their cause. As it was, all Light knew was that they were killing others of his kind; his cousins, in a way. That was something that was not likely to endear them to him._

_Light sighed quietly, clicking the safety back on, and sensed more than saw Matt relax. Mello was still dead to the world, and Light knew that he needed to leave before the sun rose. First though..._

"_Forget my face, and forget our conversation," Light said, reinforcing the message he had already imprinted on the blond's mind._

"_Yes," Mello murmured, for once not using some sort of profanity. How very refreshing._

"_That goes for you too, Mail," Light added as an afterthought, turning to the young red-haired boy, brown and red eyes piercing through the tinted orange goggles._

"_Of course," Matt muttered, his voice distant. Light smiled as he pulled a mask from his coat pocket – a fancy dress masquerade-style mask that would cover the majority of his face whilst still leaving his mouth and eyes visible; it was nice to be able to display emotion once in a while._

_Slipping the mask over his face, Light stood and casually neatened his clothes, straightening them out and dusting them off, though there wasn't really any need to._

"_Well, if that's all, I'll be on my way," Light said, heading towards the door. Matt and Mello both blinked suddenly, staring at him with confused and suspicious eyes, opening their mouths and speaking at the same time._

"_What the hell did you do to us?"_

"_Who the fuck are you?"_

_Light continued on towards the door, pausing only to carelessly toss a small piece of paper onto the desk._

"_Here's my card," he said dismissively, before leaving the room and sprinting away, not giving either human a chance to do... well, anything at all._

_Light didn't doubt that the consequences of being caught by two extreme vampire slayers would be very unpleasant indeed._

* * *

Ryuk grinned around his mouthful of apple, staring out into the street from the window of his human's work building. Alright, so the guy's job was pretty dull, but the place had a great view. From up here, he could watch every human that went by, see their name and lifespan and think up the sickest way imaginable for them to die.

It was so much more entertaining from down here than it was in the shinigami realm.

Almost as entertaining as seriously freaking out the other guys in the building. Ryuk had spent the better part of his day floating idly around and occasionally chucking something at someone's head. He had also hidden three sets of car keys, squeezed a pen until it exploded all over someone's nice new suit and eaten a banana in full view of no less than six humans; who were now all convinced that the building was haunted.

All Ryuk had discovered was that humans got scared really easily and that apples were way nicer than bananas. He didn't think he'd be changing his eating habits any time soon.

Kira was busy at the moment, so Ryuk had lost one of his favourite forms of entertainment; publically irritating the man until he got so mad he shouted at Ryuk, regardless of how many clueless humans there were in the vicinity. Of course, Ryuk supposed he could try that now, but he had already been warned that if he tried there would be no apples for a week. That might have been worth it, had he not had other ways to amuse himself. The fact remained however that he _did_ have other ways to entertain himself, and so he had so far managed to leave Kira alone.

The sun had set a few hours ago, but that didn't really bother Ryuk; his eyes were different to a human's after all, particularly after spending so long staring down into the human realm. Ryuk raised his non-existent eyebrows – he had _finally_ worked out what they were – at the sight of a woman destined to die in just a few short minutes. Ryuk watched curiously as another human dragged her backwards, plunging a sharp knife into her stomach and chest several times, before grabbing something from her bag and running off. Well that was... interesting.

Ryuk didn't doubt that the whole affair had been something to do with the human concept of money – the entire species was bloody fascinated by the stuff! Loads of humans would do just about anything to get more of it, Kira included. Contrary to the beliefs of many humans, Kira wasn't a god – he was just as susceptible to human weaknesses as any other of his kind, and for that reason he was slightly dull at times. However, Ryuk felt that in this case, his time was more often interesting than not, so he could live with Kira's strange human ways.

Staring out of the window, wondering who he should target next, Ryuk's eyes were caught by a flash of brown on a neighbouring roof; staring across, Ryuk was slightly surprised to see the lone figure of a human standing there.

His eyes had to wrong; there was something seriously screwy going on here, and Ryuk was even starting to doubt his own sanity – how messed up was that? A shinigami doubting his own sanity; he would be a laughing stock if anyone else ever found out. Yet there was no way what he was seeing could be real.

There was no way this guy Light who was standing on the roof across from him had been dead for five years.

* * *

L almost dropped his phone in shock.

"What do you mean?" L asked breathlessly, panicking slightly, however illogical that may have been. C couldn't have L's phone – L was _using_ his phone for crying out loud! So how...?

"Ask your friend Quillish," was the amused reply, and L tensed impossibly further. C knew Watari's real name? Exactly what had transpired when those two met? How did C know so much? What on Earth was going on here?

"I want you to answer me," L responded, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Watari's answer would be more reliable; less likely to be a lie. There also wouldn't be any complex mind and word games involved; so why did L want _C_ to answer the question?

When L realised the answer, he squirmed uncomfortably in his seat; he wanted C to _trust _him with the answer. L had never before cared for other people's opinions, nor did he really want to gain their trust unless it was beneficial to him in some way or another. Yet now, he simply wanted C to trust him... because L Lawliet would trust C, should their positions have been reversed.

... And that made him uncomfortable.

"If you're that desperate to know, I acquired this from Quillish earlier today, though I doubt he remembers it. Age can be a terrible thing, you know," C's voice was mocking, sarcastic, and L felt anger bubble in his chest and throat at the obvious snub. No matter how much L respected C, he would not allow the young man to insult his friend and caretaker in such a manner.

"There is nothing the matter with Quillish's memory," L responded angrily; though now that he knew C was using Watari's phone, he doubted emotion really mattered – his voice would be altered anyway.

"I'm surprised you're not denying all knowledge of him," C laughed on the other end, and L heard the faint whistle of wind for a brief second. C was travelling fast then... motorbike, perhaps?

"Such a course of action would be highly illogical, as you already know that I am associated with him," L reasoned, and heard a soft hum of agreement.

"I suppose so. And speaking of highly illogical courses of action, I have to go now, and face my impending demise. Talk to you later," C laughed, before the line clicked off – _without _giving L a chance to reply.

L was beginning to think that C's social skills were even worse than his own.

* * *

Naomi shifted slightly, the chair altogether too comfortable for her to settle herself for too long; she was worried she might fall asleep otherwise. The coffee in her hands was deliciously warm, and she sipped at it delicately, enjoying the pleasantly bitter flavour. No one spoke, and she didn't want to be the first to break the silence, so she kept her thoughts to herself and continued to drink her coffee.

The five vampires in the room were scattered about on chairs and sofas; Kietheren slumped sideways on a chair, his legs hanging over one of the arms, his head tilted back over the other; Ienipa lounged elegantly on one of the sofas, long ruffled dress just brushing the floor; Yoru leant casually back, idly flicking through a newspaper that appeared to be from at least a hundred years ago; Warui tapped his foot impatiently against the floor, his elbows resting on his knees; Wicked simply sat, back straight and eyes facing forwards – she hadn't moved in ten minutes.

Akuma was nowhere to be seen.

Naomi was beginning to feel impatient. Being trapped in a room with five potential killers was not her definition of a good night in. Was Light ever going to turn up? He'd said that he would, but that had been almost half an hour ago, and Naomi was starting to feel a little concerned.

Alright, so feeling concerned for a vampire was probably quite stupid, but it didn't stop Naomi. The guy was pretty decent for one of the living dead, and he _was_ her boss after all.

Naomi would have been lying if she had claimed not to have jumped when the door flew open and Light strode in, an enormous smirk plastered across his face, hair windswept and eyes bright. In fact, she jumped so violently that her coffee slopped over the edge of the mug, spilling onto her hand and scalding her; she cursed under her breath, though she didn't doubt that everyone had heard her.

"Well Light Yagami, you certainly took your time," Wicked commented, finally looking away from the many books that lined the walls. The others all added their agreement, and Naomi winced at the high-pitched scream that echoed down the stairs. She didn't recognise the language, but she had worked as an FBI agent long enough to know a death threat when she heard one.

"Sorry, I got held up," Light said breezily, settling himself in one of the nearby chairs, the light in his eyes still as bright as when he had first walked in the door. "What have you told her so far?"

"Nothing," Ienipa answered, her blue eyes turned in Light's general direction. "We were waiting for you _kodomo_." Naomi thought that it was strange that such a young woman would call Light 'child', but then again, Naomi had no idea how old Ienipa actually was.

"Well then, you'd better get on with it," Light said, waving a dismissive hand and closing his eyes. "The condensed version Wicked, if you please. We have several thousand years to get through in a single night."

"As you wish, Light Yagami. Tell me, Naomi Misora, do you believe in gods of death?"

* * *

**Silly Light. He still hasn't learnt that running over rooftops is _not_ a smart thing to do. Sorry if the ending seems a little rushed; I just had to get my ideas down, but it's really late where I am so...**

**Ah more questions just waiting to be answered! Review, my lovlies, and these questions may finally cease to be unanswered. Until next time, I bid you all a fond farewell...**

**... Screw it. REVIEW PLEASE!!!!**


	11. Assault

**Yeah, this is pretty much going to be one of those chapters where I seriously screw with the Death Note universe. Wait and see - you'll know what I'm talking about when you get there, trust me. I couldn't help myself; this is an AU story after all, and messing up the plot was so much fun XD. I can manipulate the characters any which way I want (not like that, you dirty-minded people!)**

**On the plus side - random details and history time! We're gonna find out where vampires come from - and no, it isn't 'when a mummy vampire and a daddy vampire love each other very much... yadda yadda'. No no no; far more Death Note-y than that!**

** Also, random trivia time; I already know how the story's going to end! Oh yes, there will be drama. Simply because I can and I want to XD**

**Death Note - come on, is this really necessary? *sigh* I don't own Death Note... *grumble***

**Chapter 10: Assault**

* * *

"Um... Not really," Naomi frowned slightly, wondering where the white haired girl was going with this. Wicked smiled mysteriously, her fingers unconsciously tracing one of the blue-grey tattoos on her wrist – at least, Naomi assumed that it was unconscious.

"You should – they are very real, and very dangerous; not to mention very, _very_ old," Yoru said, without looking up from his paper. He didn't seem all too bothered by the idea himself, yet he seemed to think that Naomi should be bothered – by creatures that likely didn't even exist in the first place.

"_You_ don't seem to be worried about it," Naomi said, her voice more accusing than she had intended; nervously she bit her lip, wondering if she had said the wrong thing. Thankfully, Yoru just laughed; his shoulders shaking and brushing his artificially-straight hair, teeth clicking quietly against piercings in his lips and tongue. After less than a second of silence, the others all joined in – even Light, who didn't seem to be quite as... vampire-ish as the rest of them.

"Why should we be? It's humans they kill, not vampires," Warui snorted, completely unconcerned and seemingly unaware of the implications of what he had just said; he had practically admitted to not caring for the lives of humans... in front of a human!

"By choice or because they can't?" Naomi asked, stifling the anger in her tone.

"Because they cannot. It was part of the agreement forged with the shinigami king when he allowed us to leave the realm," Wicked said with a soft sigh, her white eyes growing distant.

"The shinigami _king_?" Naomi asked, trembling slightly at the thought of a being strong enough to control all of the gods of death. Suffice to say, it was not a pleasant mental image.

"I'm surprised that you focused the most on that part of the conversation; most people would be more worried by the 'allowed us to leave the realm' line," Light snorted, idly messing around with a phone he had produced from his pocket; a very new model, if Naomi wasn't mistaken. Naomi's eyes widened slightly when she caught Light's meaning.

"You mean... You were all shinigami?" She asked, staring around at the room's other occupants with wide eyes, trying to match them up with the picture in her head. Long black robe, scythe, possibly a skull mask...

"Light wasn't; he was a human until five years ago," Yoru replied, spinning a pen between his fingers as he completed the Sudoku section in his paper within thirty seconds, chewing on his lip, ignoring the many rings that clicked against his teeth.

"The rest of us were though," Kietheren grinned, tilting his head back over the arm of the chair to stare at Naomi with wide eyes; his vertical pupils were starting to creep her out a bit. "It was dead boring."

Everyone but Naomi immediately began laughing, and it took her a few seconds to get the joke. Kietheren, Warui and Light threw back their heads and laughed without restraint; Wicked, Ienipa and Yoru were slightly more controlled and demure. Even Naomi felt the slightest of smiles tugging at her lips, though that may have been because the laughter was so infectious.

"That was, in part, why we left the shinigami realm – Ienipa saw the gradual rot beginning, and we six saw fit to leave before we were forced to see the ruins we knew our world would one day fall to become," Wicked whispered, staring down at the floor. "Ienipa could not stand to remain and see the destruction she had foretold; Kietheren simply believed that killing would be more entertaining in the human world; Akuma and Warui had grown bored, and Yoru would have followed them to the depths of Hell and back."

"What about you?" Naomi asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer; almost as afraid as she was of the contemplative looks Kietheren was shooting her. He had come to the human realm just because he wanted to try killing in person? That was sick.

"Me? I suppose... There was potential in the human world that I had not seen in our own for the longest time. It seemed so much more interesting to be in the centre of the action, and when you have weaknesses, well – you begin to appreciate your life a lot more when you know you are not invincible."

* * *

Kira wasn't happy; Ryuk could tell by the way the man downed drink after drink, the funny amber liquid filling the room with a strange scent that wasn't nearly as appetising as the scent of fresh, juicy apples. In fact, the smell wasn't pleasant at all, and Ryuk wandered into the next room over, wondering what could've made Kira so mad.

Probably something gone wrong at work – that was the only thing the guy really seemed to care about. That, and making more money.

Ryuk still wasn't quite sure why humans were so fascinated by the stuff. You couldn't really _do_ anything with it; the only thing it was really good for was swapping for apples. Who had thought up the ridiculous system? People who had no money wanted it – people who did have money wanted more. People who had no money often died, and people who did have money seemed to end up being hurt or killed over it. It was ridiculous!

Then again, Ryuk had never once said that humans made sense to him; all he knew was that they were interesting. That was what was important.

Like that one he had seen earlier; Light Yagami, written as Moon Night God. That guy looked interesting; not only had his lifespan ended five years ago, but he also didn't seem to behave like most humans – at least, not the humans Ryuk had come across. Seriously, how many humans went for a jog across the Tokyo skyline?

From the other room, Ryuk heard the sound of a body hit the ground, and he popped his head through the wall to make sure that Kira wasn't bleeding all over the place – having ascertained that he wasn't, Ryuk spread his wings, flying out of the building, laughing his raspy laugh.

He wanted to find that Yagami kid and find out just what was going on.

* * *

"Uh-huh. So you came to Earth... and then what?" Naomi asked, feigning disinterest, though she doubted she fooled anyone.

"It didn't happen quite that easily, Naomi Misora. There were and still are many laws that we must follow in exchange for our life in the human realm. We were no longer allowed our death notes, and though we were not given the lifespan of a human we killed, we still had to take human life in order to survive; we were allowed to keep our eyes, though they are essentially useless to us now. If we are to use, or even touch a death note, the pain is unimaginable," Wicked said nonchalantly, watching the incense on the table burn, filling the room with its soft fragrance.

"Whoa, I'm confused. Number one; what's a death note? Number two; what've lifespans got to do with anything. Number three; eyes?" Naomi said quickly, before anyone else could speak.

"A death note is a shinigami's tool, and it does what it says on the tin. It's a notebook of death – you write down a name and badda-bing, badda-boom, the person dies. A shinigamis only immortal as long as they continue to write down a person's name; they are then given the remainder of the human's lifespan as their own. The eyes allow us to see everybody's name and lifespan, so shinigami don't need to worry about not knowing a person's name; although, there is a bit of maths involved," Kietheren shrugged, staring up at the ceiling now.

"Okay, so you came to Earth... how, exactly?"

"We were given the bodies of recently-dead humans, if you must know," Warui said, sounding mildly amused. "Of course, they had to alter a bit in order to accommodate a shinigami's soul, but we managed. Akuma, Yoru and I landed in Japan; Wicked and Ienipa were in what is now Britain, and Kietheren believes he ended up somewhere in Italy. We chose our new names – apart from Kietheren, whose name as a shinigami was the same as it is now. Five thousand years later, here we are."

"Five _thousand years_?" Naomi asked breathlessly, her eyes widening to the point where she thought they might fall out.

"Give or take the odd decade – we don't keep track that well."

Through all of this, Light had remained almost silent, glaring quietly at the floor, and Naomi was half-tempted to ask what it had ever done to him. Now however, he looked up.

"It took a couple of decades before they could control themselves enough to stop killing, and a few centuries more before they realised that they could change humans to vampires. Odd though it may sound to you, vampires grow stronger with time; these six are the oldest beings alive, and likely the strongest," Light said in a quiet voice.

"Not for long, if you keep improving the way you have been," Kietheren laughed. "You're already stronger than most vampires three or four times your age."

"Flattering but irrelevant," Light said, waving a dismissive hand. "The point is you'll be hard pushed to find better protection than that offered by these six, so-"

"What?" Akuma screamed, storming suddenly into the room. Immediately, all six vampires stood, their positions almost defensive. "So on top of all of this other crap, you want us to act like her personal bodyguards? You've got some fucking nerve!"

"Akuma, please, at least let him finish..." Ienipa started, but Akuma cut her off.

"No! I fucking well won't let him finish! I want an explanation _now_ and it had better be pretty damn impressive, or so help me Light!" She growled, her eyes blazing red with sudden and startling ferocity. Naomi shrunk back slightly, and from the corner of her eye noticed Wicked moving to stand slightly more in front of her; the stance was undeniably protective, yet all of Akuma's attention was focused on Light.

"It's just a precaution, Akuma," Light assured her, holding his hands up, empty palms facing the furious young (?) vampire. It did nothing to calm her.

"Then why the fuck are you risking our lives?" She screeched, launching herself across the room, fangs aiming for Light's throat. Naomi heard herself scream slightly as the momentum carried the two brawling vampires into the wall behind them; the entire room seemed to shake.

Light threw Akuma off with what appeared to be very little effort on his part, and then all Naomi could make out was a whirlwind of punches and kicks being thrown back and forth – they moved to fast for her to see anything more, but the way they moved was... well, beautiful.

"Time to go," Kietheren's voice sounded in her ear, tearing her attention away from the two vampires who seemed to be intent on killing one another whilst destroying the room as thoroughly as possible. A strong hand gripped her arm and dragged her away from the terrifying scene

"Wait!" Naomi shouted as she was dragged down the front steps; the sky was just beginning to lighten, and Naomi wondered where the night had gone – it had felt so much shorter. "What about Light? Akuma's stronger than he is!"

"Yes, but she allows herself to be overcome by her emotions, whilst Light Yagami keeps a level head," Wicked shrugged. "He will not be harmed. Would you like to take the front or back seat?"

* * *

L stared morosely out of the window in his hotel suite, one hand pressed against the glass, for no other reason than he like the cool, smooth surface beneath his fingertips. Thoughts ran through his mind at blinding speed, and his hand clenched into a fist against the window without any conscious decision on his part. The Kira case was going nowhere – criminals from all over the world were dying, and the only connection L could find between any of the victims were the fact that they had all had their names and faces published where they could be easily accessed by the general public, which of course, did nothing to aid his investigation. He wondered how Mello and C were doing...

Ah, yes. C. The irritating young man who had stolen Watari's phone, and then called L simply to taunt him. Their conversation had made little to no sense, and despite the teasing quality of C's remarks, L couldn't help but get the impression that he was quite a calm person, who would often take things very seriously; of course, L's social skills were so stunted that he could be completely wrong and never know.

Regardless, his first conversation with the only other individual on the planet capable of matching him in intelligence and personality hadn't gone quite as he had always hoped it would. In fact – and L felt the slightest of blushes rise to his face at the thought – he had always kind of hoped that their first meeting would be in person, working on a case together. He had imagined C being around his age – though that was more wishful thinking than rational deduction – Japanese (since most of C's work was done in Japan) and quite wealthy, because although C wasn't paid for his detective work – unlike L – C was intelligent enough to have any job he desired.

Wishful thinking on his part, perhaps, but it was a dream that L had never quite been able to shake, one that frequented both his waking mind and his occasional periods of sleep. Staring at the window, and the reflection of grey-back eyes that stared back, L caught himself trying to visualise C's face. He would be young – no older than L himself, considering he had only been on the 'detective scene' a few years now. Not to mention the two phone conversations; if they deserved to be called such.

Would C be attractive? An interesting question; having heard C's voice twice now, L could safely conclude that the man had one of the most beautiful voices he had heard, from the point of view of an artist, or something similar. L was able to detach himself from the situation, and still proclaim that C's voice was one that shouldn't be allowed to belong to a human.

After C had so rudely hung up on him, L had requested that Watari attempted to track exactly where the call had been coming from, despite knowing that he and Matt had worked on the technology themselves – that line was perhaps the most secure in the world. As expected, they had been unsuccessful, and L was left with yet another dead end.

As though the Kira case wasn't frustrating enough, L now had to deal with a rogue detective who, though brilliant, was apparently insane. Impending demise? What sort of excuse was that? C could have at least tried to think of a reason to hang up that didn't sound as though it belonged in a bad science fiction film.

"L? Interpol will be starting soon. Do you want me to set up the connection now?" Watari asked through the voice filter, and L carried on staring at the reflection in the window as he gave his answer.

"Yes, thank you Watari."

The carpet was soft beneath L's bare feet, and he stretched his toes luxuriously, burying them into the carpet happily. At least one problem would be addressed soon; regarding the Kira case, L had decided to inform the police of his decision to assist them in their investigations, and hopefully, of his plan to draw Kira out.

_I hope you're watching this, Mello, _L thought with vindictive satisfaction. _This is how a pro does it._

* * *

Five blocks over, a shrill scream was heard, echoing through the alleyways and backstreets of the city. No one came to the aid of the young girl, but that was to be expected – a pretty young thing like her wandering around alone at night? What did she expect?

The girl couldn't run away fast enough; she was exhausted and on the brink of collapse. The man had been chasing her for what felt like hours now, and she couldn't run any further. Her breath came hard and fast, while her heart hammered against her ribs. Each footstep seemed a little louder than the one before; every step she took was a little more difficult.

The girl remembered thinking '_Why me? What have I ever done to deserve this?_'

No answer could be heard.

The dimly-lit streets were treacherous at night; she knew that as well as the next person, but she clung to the youthful fantasy of 'it'll never happen to me'. Now, running desperately for her life, the young girl couldn't help but wish that she'd taken up martial-arts instead of modelling.

She spun around another corner, only to skid to a halt when she realised she'd hit a dead end. Another small scream fell from her lips when she caught sight of the man in the mouth of the alley. The knife in his hand glinted when it caught the light of the streetlamps, and she felt her breathing quicken further.

"Please! I love you!" He cried, and she shrank back, stuttering some nonsense in her terror. This man was insane! She had never even met him before, so how could he possibly love her? How could she ever love him?

"No! You don't; you can't!" She cried, shrinking back into the shadows.

"Misa, don't you believe me? Don't you trust your own soul-mate?" The man shouted, his eyes wild, his hands shaking with what may have been suppressed anger. He began to advance on her, the knife lifting slowly, despite his trembling limbs. Misa squeezed her eyes shut, dropping into a curled-up foetal position, arms raised protectively above her head.

There was a quiet rush of wind, and the slightest of splashes, before a beautiful, angelic voice resounded in her mind.

"Drop the knife," he said, and Misa hesitantly opened her eyes, glancing up to watch what was going on – the figure of a man blocked her view of the stalker. The newcomer was tall and cut a dashing figure; well dressed in elegant, fitted clothing.

"Don't get in my way! Don't try to stop me! We're in love," her stalker shouted desperately, and the new man chuckled darkly.

"I don't think that Misa agrees with statement," he said. "In fact, I personally think that she seems rather terrified, wouldn't you agree?"

The stalker lunged forward with an enraged yell, and Misa's saviour flicked one foot up and around, knocking the knife from his already weak grip.

Misa shut her eyes against what happened next, too afraid that she might see her knight in shining armour hurt. However, it sounded as though the entire fight was over in the space of ten seconds, and when Misa dared crack open her eyes, she saw that the man was walking towards the mouth of the alley, her stalker tied up and slung casually over his shoulder.

"Thank you!" She called as loudly as she could, and the man turned around to face her; Misa stifled a gasp when she met the deep brown eyes that stared at her from behind the black mask. She saw his perfect lips curve into a wry smile as he bowed at her, gaze never leaving her own.

"You're welcome, Misa Amane," he replied, and somehow it didn't seem strange to her that the angel knew her name – it was so right, that she would have felt weirder if he hadn't known it. That was wrong though, because she didn't have his name, had nothing to call her angel in return.

"Who are you?" She asked, the gratitude apparent in her voice.

"My card," he said, tossing a small piece of paper to her, which Misa just about managed to catch – it was heavy and old-fashioned, and Misa frowned when she saw that there was nothing on it but a decorative Gothic cross, similar to the ones she was so fond of, though far more intricate.

"But it..." she started looking up, only to blink several times and stare around in confusion.

The angel had vanished, stalker and all.

* * *

**Oh hells to the yes, I have so seriously screwed up the plotline of Death Note. Mwahahaha!**

**... Haha!**

**Review please?**


	12. Love

**Whew, I finally got it done. You might be pleased to know that there is some explanation regarding Akuma's actions in the past few chapters, 'cause she's been acting like a right bitch to Light. Then again, you might not really care, I don't know.**

**Also, sorry for those of you who don't like Misa, but she crops up again. I don'tlike her either, but I couldn't help it. She gave me migraines until I agreed to put her in the chapter XD**

**Death Note - On the day that Death Note becomes mine, the world will split into thirty-eight equal pieces, and we shall all be thrown into a vat of boiling maple syrup. As you might have guessed, I don't own Death Note.**

**Chapter 11: Love**

* * *

Naomi sat silently in the backseat, staring out of the window, Wicked sitting just as silently beside her. Yoru and Ienipa chattered in the front seat, in some language that Naomi didn't understand. Occasionally, Wicked would smile or shake her head at something they said, but other than that, she was motionless.

"So, where are you staying?" Yoru asked suddenly in Japanese, meeting Naomi's eyes in the mirror.

"With my parents – it's about ten blocks over. I'll tell you where to turn," Naomi said, returning her gaze to the city that flew past the tinted windows. The sun was would rise in less than half an hour, and Naomi wondered what would happen to the vampires then – she still remembered Light's extreme reaction from the second time they had met, when she had tried to open the curtains.

"Do you really think Light'll be okay?" Naomi asked anxiously, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

"Light knows how to look after himself, and he knows Akuma. He'll be just fine," Yoru smiled reassuringly at her, and Naomi almost shouted at him, telling him to keep his eyes on the road.

"She looked like she wanted to kill him!" Naomi said angrily, surprised that they would just leave their friends behind like that to fight.

"That's just 'cause she's scared," Yoru shrugged. "Never tell her I told you this, but Akuma's always been afraid of losing her 'family', and Light's actions have put all of us at risk. She's angry about that, but she does understand why he acted that way, believe it or not. We haven't had contact with Light for a good year now, and she's terrified of losing him again. I suppose considering that, her actions _do _seem a little backwards, but she won't hurt him. I think part of it is just that he never told us about you; maybe she would have been more understanding if he had just told us himself," Yoru explained quietly, his voice sad.

"You mustn't worry about Light," Ienipa added her input. "He has survived alone for most of his five years; he is perhaps the most intelligent, cunning vampire I have ever had the fortune of meeting. In actual fact, I think he will always survive better when he is alone."

"And have you not noticed a conspicuous absence of a certain two ex-shinigami?" Wicked asked, butting suddenly into the conversation. "Warui and Kietheren will ensure no one is harmed."

* * *

"Ten on Akuma!"

"No way! Light's got this in the bag!"

"You're kidding, right? Akuma's been doing this for thousands of years!"

"Yeah, but Light's clearly better at the logical and strategic side of things!"

Light ignored Warui and Kietheren's voices from out in the hallway, focusing all of his attention on the whirlwind of red-haired fury before him. Akuma's rage made her blind and deaf to all that happened around her; the vampire's attention was solely on Light, making her a formidable opponent. However, the anger that made her strong also made her movements predictable to someone who knew her as well as Light did. He could have fought her with his eyes shut.

"I... can't... fucking... believe... you," she hissed, each word punctuated by a swift kick; Light dodged and blocked every one. "Why... didn't... you... tell...us?"

"Is that what this is about? I never told you because you never asked," Light sneered, riling her up even further. Hopefully this would work – if not, then there was a strong possibility he would die in the next five minutes, since it didn't sound as though Warui and Kietheren would be helping him anytime soon.

"You bastard! Argh, I'm going to murder you!"

Akuma leapt at him, fangs bared; Light spun off to the side, snarling quietly as she somehow managed to grab hold of him, teeth slicing through the skin of his shoulder. That would take a while to heal – vampires, despite their incredible rate of recovery, were vulnerable to the attacks of other vampires.

"Please don't insult my parentage," Light said, before wrapping his arms around Akuma in an enormous hug, throwing her off completely for a few seconds. She shrieked and struggled against him furiously, sinking her teeth and nails into his skin, punching and kicking whatever she could reach. Light grimaced but held her securely, refusing to let her go.

"Let me go! Son of a bitch, let me go!" She growled, only angered further by the way Light chuckled quietly.

"What did I say about insulting my parents?" He asked rhetorically, gritting his teeth as she somehow defied the laws of nature and managed to elbow him in the stomach, despite the angle at which she stood before him.

"I don't give a damn about your parents! Just let me go!"

"Sorry, Akuma, that's something I can't do – who knows what you might try if I do?" Light smiled.

"I might try killing you!" Was the only reply, though her voice sounded slightly more unsteady now, as it became apparent that she wasn't going to hurt him; not seriously, anyway.

"Point made and taken," Light smirked at her, watching as she realised what she had said.

It only took a few seconds more before Akuma broke – her angry screams morphed into equally angry sobs; her hands went from beating the living daylights out of him to gripping his shirt. Light could feel tears soaking his shoulder, and he patted her awkwardly on the back, unused to giving comfort.

"I hate you," she muttered, but there was no real conviction in her words.

"Oh, really?" Light asked, relieved that everything had turned out the way he had hoped, rather than resulting in a rather agonising death. "And that's why you felt the need to splatter the room with my blood?"

"No; that's because I'm mad! I'll do more than splatter the room with your blood; I'm going to murder you in your sleep! It'll be slow and painful, and I'll personally nail your mangled head above the door as a warning to anyone who pisses me off!" She half-sobbed into his shoulder. Personally, Light thought that she sounded more afraid than mad, but he chose to remain quiet on that front.

"I'm sorry," Light sighed, hating that he was being forced to utter such words – his pride would not usually allow such a thing, but he felt that in this instance, he could make an exception.

"I understand _why_ you told her, I just don't get why you kept it from _us_. We're your _friends _Light," Akuma said, more anger seeping back into her tone, and Light stiffened almost imperceptibly. Akuma wasn't acting all that friendly at the moment, but he supposed it was kind of understandable, when you knew Akuma's personality.

"I know, Akuma. I have no excuse for my actions – I am truly sorry. It's unfortunate that this had to coincide with the rise of Kira, I suppose."

"Yeah, that probably didn't help my mood," she agreed with a choked laugh. "But we only just got you back, Light. I only just got my whole _family_ back, and now we could all _die_ and I am so seriously going to _kill_ you..."

"I know, I know," Light laughed. "You're going to have me hung, drawn and quartered, before creating a gargoyle with my torn limbs and painting it with my blood."

"... Not what I was going to say, but now that you mention it, it _does_ sound like a lot of fun," Akuma whispered, and Light smiled at his successful attempt at distraction.

"Bitch."

"Asshat."

"Cow."

"Jerk-face."

"Forgiven?" Light asked hopefully, heartened by her slightly lighter (yes, ha-ha, he got the joke. 'Light-er'. Very funny) tone of voice.

"No. This isn't something I can just get over, 'kay? You put all of us in danger with your stupidity. But... no more trying to murder you," Akuma smiled wryly, holding out her hand. Light grasped it, shaking her hand as he smiled back at her.

"Not even to make pretty paintings with my innards?" He mocked.

"Well, maybe if I'm in a really, _really_ bad mood," she laughed quietly, though there were still traces of anger in her voice. Light took that as a good start.

"I think I can handle that," Light shrugged.

"I'm still mad at you," she said warningly, her eyes fading from vibrant red to an equally vibrant green – they still flashed angrily, but the emotion was subdued, and Light was glad that she seemed to have fought the anger out of her system.

"Have you two finished yet?" Kietheren asked, sticking his head around the door. "'Cause if you are, can you tell us who won? We got money on this thing."

* * *

L stared curiously at the laptop's screen, waiting for the various representatives of Interpol to quit bickering amongst themselves. He had been watching them through the many security cameras set up in the room after hacking into the security system of the building. If they didn't shut up soon, then he could at least wait for a good moment to butt into the conversation. Like... now.

"L is already working on the case," Watari's voice echoed throughout the auditorium, carrying to all of the members of Interpol. The elderly gentleman strode confidently into the room, setting the laptop down and opening it up, revealing the large Gothic 'L' on the screen.

"Greetings to all of you at the ICPO," L began. "I am L."

Immediately, the muttering intensified, swelling louder and echoing off of the walls. L sighed at the predictability of the reaction, waiting impatiently for them to grow tired of their meaningless chatter. Eventually it died down enough for him to be heard without needing to adjust the volume, so L deemed it a good enough time to speak.

"This case is as difficult as it is unique, due to its unprecedented scope and the rather unusual nature of the murders. For make no mistake – we are currently bearing witness to what may be the most atrocious act of homicide in the course of recorded history. It is my belief that this 'Kira' the media is currently raving about does exist, and is one person, acting alone; however at this point, that is nothing more than mere speculation."

"And what if you're wrong?" A British representative called. "Can you offer us any proof that what you say is right?"

"I hope to be able to prove that to you very soon – however, I will need the full cooperation of the Japanese police."

"What? Why the Japanese police?" Several angry voices cried in unison, and despite himself, L was impressed that their mutual confusion had managed to transcend the many language barriers between them.

"Because it is very likely that Kira is Japanese – or if he isn't, we can be almost certain that he is currently residing in Japan. As to how I will prove it to you; well, I think it'll be more interesting for you to wait and see, wouldn't you agree?"

* * *

Light pressed his lips together into a thin line angrily as he heard Misa Amane's shouts behind him. As if he didn't have enough on his plate, without this idiotic girl interfering with his business. He had just under half an hour of darkness left, and he still needed to leave this piece of filth by the nearest police station – when walking, it was a journey that would take a little over an hour. When running, he could make it in less than ten minutes.

If only that damned human would just _leave him alone_.

Muttering under his breath, Light sped up slightly, ignoring the stumbling footsteps that indicated the human's foolish attempts to follow him. He had no time to waste on this girl; why couldn't she get that into her thick skull? Light clicked his tongue impatiently, wondering if he should wipe her memory, or knock her unconscious, or...

It probably wasn't a good idea to do any of those things, not to mention it wasn't worth the effort. Instead, Light hurried on, turning corners and taking short-cuts at blinding speed, only daring to slow down slightly when he realised he could no longer hear the human Misa behind him anymore.

... Only to speed up once again when he remembered exactly how tight a schedule he was on. Really, being trapped by the hours of darkness and sunlight truly was a nuisance.

Light had misjudged the distance – it took him only five minutes to reach the police station even with the human slung over his shoulder. It was a relief, as he had very little time left to run back home safely. In fact, if he was lucky, he might even have time to taunt L some more, as long as he hurried.

Laughing to himself, perfectly aware of the fact that he must sound like a madman, Light vaulted up to the roof using the metal ladders that scaled the side of the building. He always felt better when he was up so high – perhaps a warped superiority complex, or maybe he just liked being able to watch everything that went on in the city beneath him. Either way, he always preferred to have the advantage of being high up.

Sometimes when running, Light would wish for some company. Only one vampire – he still didn't really like crowds of people, though his social skills were unparalleled. Even so, he only wanted the feeling of someone being close by, as a sort of reassurance. He cared little for conversation, and didn't wish to talk; he just wanted some measure of companionship.

At times like this, Light was quite glad that he had spent so much of his life avoiding gaining close friends; when he was alone, with nothing to really occupy his mind, Light knew that he would dearly miss any friends he had gained as a human. It wasn't as though he could ever contact anyone from his human life, after all.

Light gritted his teeth, ignoring the muted stinging in his eyes; he was _not_ going to cry, damn it! As a vampire, he was stronger than that. Had he not proved, time and time again, that he was perfectly capable of surviving alone; he had no real need to social interaction. It was simply a leftover human instinct that called for such frivolous things.

Light was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost sped straight past the hotel in which the great L was staying. Spinning on his heel and turning back, Light stood on the roof from which he had caught his first glimpse of the detective such a short time ago. Now all he had to do was wait.

Thankfully, the light was still on – didn't this human ever sleep? – so Light was sure that it wouldn't be very long before the human inside noticed him. Checking idly that his mask – the damned thing was so irritating – still covered the majority of his face, Light stared at the window, silently willing the man inside to look up and see him.

Even without eye contact, Light's telepathic abilities were virtually unheard of, even amongst the strongest of vampires, and it was a matter of seconds before a pale face with a shock of dark hair appeared at the window. Light felt his breath hitch – this was the same man that had run out to check on him after he had leapt so desperately from the roof. So that had been L? What an interesting coincidence.

_I suppose even the famous L can be surprised sometimes, _Light mused, waiting for the man to catch sight of him. _Come on, I'm up here. Look up, L._

As though the pale man had heard him, dark eyes were suddenly boring a hole in his face – though it was impossible for a human to see him clearly from this distance.

Light raised his hand, slowly and deliberately, and waved.

* * *

L stared at the man standing on the building across from him, confusion and excitement reflected in his storm-grey eyes. Unless his instincts were suddenly mutinying, L was eighty-six percent certain that this was the same man whom he had seen topple from that very roof not yet a week ago.

Cautiously, L raised his hand and waved back, not entirely sure what the correct reaction was in this sort of situation. Nevertheless, he felt that it would be rude to just ignore the man, despite the fact that he may have been waving to someone else entirely.

Immediately, the other man stilled for a second, and L swiftly lowered his arm, wondering if he had accidentally done something wrong. He bit his lip nervously as he watched the man stride confidently towards the edge of the building, an uncomfortable wave of déjà vu sweeping over him. Though the man's gait was sure and controlled this time around, L couldn't help but compare it to the last time he had seen someone so close to the edge of the roof.

That memory was only strengthened when the man climbed up onto the small wall surrounding the roof – no doubt designed for safety purposes, though L had seen _exactly_ how effective it was. L held his breath, his gaze fixed on the man, wondering what he planned to do next. Surely he wasn't going to jump _again_.

Yet, what else _could_ he be doing up there? There was nowhere for him to go but down, and it sure looked like he was just going to let himself fall at least forty floors. What was this man _thinking_?

L sucked in a shocked breath, stumbling backwards as the man suddenly vanished – and not even a second later, was standing on the balcony outside his window. L couldn't see most of his face – he kept his features hidden behind an elegant black masquerade mask – but he would swear that the man was _smirking_ at him.

A long, glove-sheathed hand rose slowly, before tapping twice on the glass.

* * *

Misa sighed – trawling through Google took such a _long_ time. She had typed in 'cross', trying to find something that might give her a clue as to her mysterious saviour's identity. Even thinking of him made a blush rise to her cheeks and a warm, glowing feeling spread through her.

Already, despite the brevity of their meeting, Misa was sure that in him, she had found her Soulmate. He was everything she had always imagined her true love would be – tall, strong, brave and (though she hadn't seen his face, she didn't doubt the truth of the next statement) handsome.

He had saved her life, at the risk of his own – if that wasn't love, then Misa didn't know what was. Of course, the fact that he must have been following her to see her predicament was a little worrying, but she could sense that her knight meant her no harm. Why would he? He clearly adored her.

Oh, and he knew her name! How sweet of him! Misa wondered why he had hidden his face from her – she would have loved to have seen, and she wouldn't reveal who he was if he didn't want her to. Not to mention the fact that he had never told her his name, instead giving her this stupid, useless piece of card.

Useless, because she couldn't find anything about him. There had been plenty of sites about religious things, a few about Gothic jewellery which she had clicked on out of habit, and even one about a 'General Cross' – that had excited her for a little while, until she had clicked on it and discovered that he was some stupid TV show character.

Finally, when she had almost given up hope, she found something on the twenty fifth page that seemed to be just what she was looking for.

_C – the mysterious masked detective._

* * *

**Misa never fails to piss me off, even when she hasn't really done anything. Oh, and well done to those who get the random General Cross reference. I couldn't help myself XD Yullen ftw!**

**Leave me a review and tell me what you think please!**


	13. Confession

**Sorry, sorry, sorry! I know I should have updated earlier, but as some of you may or may not know, I've been really ill lately (which is quite rare for me, I almost never get sick) so I've literally been doing nothing except eating, sleeping and watching TV because the doctor told me there wasn't anything she could do to fix it, and I just had to wait. **

**What did make me feel better was the discovery that I had fanart! Thank you to the amazing xLawli-Popx who drew an awesome picture of Kietheren. The link is on my profile so go and check it out if you haven't already!**

**Death Note - Seriously, what the crap? Am I still doing this? You guys know I don't own Death Note, what the hell is the point?**

**Chapter 12: Confession**

* * *

Light gleefully savoured the look of utter shock painted on L's face for a moment before he knocked on the glass again, more insistently this time around. He hoped that the detective would overcome his shock and invite him in soon – Light didn't really fancy the idea of being made to stand outside until the sun rose, thank you very much. He had had enough of sunlight recently; enough to last him an eternity, if he was lucky.

Light was endlessly amused when he saw L's legs give way; the detective crashed to the floor in an ungainly heap, landing hard on his backside. The mental image of the most famous detective falling on his butt at the mere sight of Light would keep him entertained for centuries to come.

Shaking his head slightly, strands of dark hair falling across his face, L stood and walked towards the glass door, sliding it open and staring at Light, his expression now perfectly composed. Curious, Light glanced above L's head, his eyes flashing crimson for a brief second as he gazed at L's name and lifespan. It seemed that the detective had a good few years left on his natural lifespan – assuming, of course, that no vampires, shinigami or death-note wielding mass-murderers decided to interfere.

_L Lawliet. _So L really _was_ his first name. In actual fact, Light thought that it was rather clever of L to use his own first name as an alias; certainly, no one would ever believe that the eccentric detective was really called _L_. An interesting tactic, though not one that Light could ever consider using.

"Hello," L said calmly, and Light was extremely impressed by the man's stoic attitude – it seemed that there was very little that could truly faze him. Then again, Light supposed that he _had_ already watched a man fall from a building and live. Perhaps he was in shock, and this hadn't yet registered properly. Light was sure that whilst he had been human, he would never have accepted something so easily.

Maybe that was it, though. Maybe L had examined this situation in depth and had drawn his own conclusions for it, how rational or irrational they may be.

_On second thoughts, I think the 'shock' theory is more likely, looking at his eyes,_ Light thought amusedly, watching the dark grey for the faint flickers of emotion that he saw every once in a while.

"Good morning, L. Might I come in for a while?" Light asked politely, his tone warm and his smile far more charming than a demon such as him had any right to be. He knew the way humans' minds worked and how to get around all possible obstacles.

"Who are you?" L asked suspiciously, his grey eyes guarded, his face utterly blank. Light sighed out of pure irritation, shaking his head slightly as a smirk blossomed on his face. This human, no matter how intelligent, had no idea what he was getting himself into, challenging Light in this way. If necessary, he could force the words to pass L's lips, though he sincerely hoped that it wouldn't come to that.

"May I take that as a yes?" Light asked, one eyebrow raised beneath his mask. L's mouth opened and then shut again, a frown taking residence on his forehead.

"That depends on who you are," L replied, his eyes narrowing the merest fraction of a centimetre – Light noticed, no matter how small the movement happened to be. Light always noticed everything.

"I'm Chuck Norris," Light responded with a sigh; had he felt even the slightest inclination, he could have made L believe every word of nonsense he had just uttered.

"If you won't tell me _who_ you are, would you mind telling me _what_ you are?" L asked, and Light laughed aloud, despite himself. Somehow, unknowingly, L had managed to pierce straight to the heart of the matter, in spite of his ignorance of Light's... _situation_. They didn't call the man a genius for nothing, Light supposed. A quick glance behind L revealed that there was no one else in the room, and Light severely doubted that L's extreme paranoia would allow him to have any sort of recording equipment in the room.

"I suppose it could be said that I am a child of the night," Light smiled, watching L's grey eyes widen in sudden realisation.

* * *

A... child of the night? Did that mean...?

Even if he wasn't C, this person knew who L was – he couldn't risk letting him get away without at least discovering whether he was trustworthy or not.

"Come in," he said, somewhat grudgingly, as though admitting that C – no, _this man_ had defeated him. Outwitted; how humiliating, for him to be beaten at his own game. He stood to one side, and the man – about the same as height as L, when he stood up properly – brushed past him without a word of thanks. His tailored coat swept behind him, and L firmly stamped down on the slight feeling of inferiority that reared its ugly head within him. He was L; the greatest detective in the world! There was no reason at all to feel inferior.

By the time he had closed the door and turned around, C had already made himself comfortable on one of the sofas, arms folded and legs crossed, eyeing L with a look he didn't quite understand. It was a mixture of contempt and the sort of endearing look used on very young children; L wasn't sure how C even managed to combine the two, nor did he have any idea as to why C was staring at him like that.

"How did you get here?" L asked, perching on one of the armchairs farthest away from C – though he was almost sure that he could trust the man, Mello's warning rang in his mind, impossible to ignore completely.

"Could it be that you suffer from short-term memory loss?" C mused, rather than answering his question. "You opened the glass door and invited me in, as I recall."

"That is not at all funny, C," L replied, careful to keep his face blank and his voice emotionless. "What I meant to say was 'how did you get up onto that roof, and how did you get from there to here?'"

"Now now, L, if I told you that it would ruin my fun," C smirked, his caramel eyes sparkling behind his mask. L suddenly noticed exactly how bright C's eyes were – a shining, vibrant brown, a similar colour to the man's flawless hair. It seemed so unfair that C appeared to be so faultless whilst L himself could be considered strange, freaky, and even 'gross-looking' as he had heard himself described on several occasions.

"Maybe, but you're ruining _my_ fun by _not_ telling me," L argued stubbornly, trying to keep the childish tone out of his voice.

"L, it is useless trying to make me feel guilty – my conscience fled five years ago," C laughed, and L couldn't quite shake off the feeling that C was laughing _at_ him; as though C knew some deep, dark secret that L was clueless about.

"Oh? And why would that be?" L asked with a frown, thoroughly confused by the turn the conversation had taken. "You aren't secretly hiding homicidal tendencies, are you?" Perhaps his Kira theory had been wrong after all...

C simply laughed.

L gritted his teeth angrily, gnawing on the end of his thumb, hard enough to break the skin. C stopped laughing immediately, gazing instead at his thumb with an intensity that frightened L. He frowned slightly self-consciously, wondering what could have captured C's attention so quickly and thoroughly.

"You're bleeding," C said softly, his sharp brown eyes still fixed on L's thumb – which _was_ bleeding, now that he looked at it. The bleeding was sluggish, and L suspected that by tomorrow he wouldn't even remember he had done it. Even so, it stung slightly and L didn't like the way the fat drops of blood rolled down his hand.

"Let me see it," C whispered, and L glanced up, shocked by how close the voice was. C was kneeling before him – L hadn't even heard him move – one hand outstretched. Without really understanding why, L placed his hand in C's; his skin was soft and warm. L's eyes remained locked with C's and suddenly the world seemed to ebb away, leaving them as the only two things that were real. L was vaguely aware of C biting his lip and L wondered idly when the breath in his chest had frozen but those things didn't really matter now.

L swore he felt his heart stop beating when C's lips brushed against his hand. The skin was like silk and L dimly registered the smallest of sighs that escaped both his and C's mouths; he thought he saw a flash of something unidentifiable in C's eyes, but it was gone before he had a chance to determine what it could have been. There was a tiny smear of blood on C's mouth as well as the small amount still smudged on L's thumb – he could no longer feel the wound.

"See? The bleeding has stopped already," C said, his eyes lowering as he released L's hand. He stood gracefully and strode back to his sofa, seating himself with the fluid elegance of a cat, his gaze sharp on L's face. L was careful not to let his confusion show – if this was another of C's twisted mind games then he wasn't going play along.

"Was there any real point to that?" L asked, and he couldn't quite steady the tremor in his voice.

"Have you never heard the phrase 'kiss it better'?"C asked, the trademark smirk already back in place. "It worked, didn't it? Your thumb is all better now."

"Maybe, but that was hardly necessary – it would have been fine by tomorrow," L said, his hand curling into a fist, the skin still tingling gently where C had touched it.

"Hm, you still don't trust me, do you?" C asked, tilting his head to one side as though that would allow him to better observe L. "Have you ever trusted anyone, L? Anyone at all?" C's voice was slightly harsher now, and L felt himself shrink back slightly.

_How is this man the same person who sent me all of those confusing messages?_ L wondered. _I know that he seemed strange then, but this is ridiculous! Does he suffer from some kind of mental disorder that causes extreme mood swings? Maybe he has multiple personalities! That would certainly explain a lot, including Mello's weird warning..._

"How can I trust you when I only met you a few minutes ago?" L asked. C appeared to contemplate that for a moment before nodding slightly.

"I suppose that is a fair comment," he admitted. "However, I already feel that I can trust you, L, more than I've ever trusted another human." Again, there was a strange quality to C's voice that made L feel that he was missing some important puzzle piece – he hated that feeling.

"How nice for you," L said, not offering any more information or opinions to the man who was practically a stranger to him.

"Well, I suppose that isn't difficult," C continued as though L hadn't spoken. "After all, most of the humans I meet are either dim-witted idiots, or they want to kill me. Sometimes both." L raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Who wants to kill you?" He asked, making a metal note to track them down and personally ensure that they never again saw the light of day.

"The majority of the criminals I've put behind bars, many of the families of the people I've put behind bars... and your friends Mello and Matt have been baying for my blood for a few years now," C shrugged noncommittally. L felt his hands tighten into fists, his teeth clenching angrily. "Though I'll admit, I was quite surprised that you let me in when I realised that you knew Mello – I would have thought that he'd have warned you against such courses of action."

"He did, but I don't like listening to him if I can help it," L replied. "He tends to listen to his emotions over logic. It was one of the reasons I decided he wasn't fit to be my successor."

"Yes, I remember him mentioning something like that the last time we met," C mused, gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Though, if memory serves, he said something about leaving the Wammy House so that he could avenge his mother... Perhaps I misheard." L's eyes widened at C's casual revelation. Mello had told him all of that? He hadn't even told L why he had left Wammy's! Why would he tell someone that he apparently wanted to kill?

"Did he now?" L asked, careful to keep the scepticism out of his voice.

"When he wasn't cursing at me, yes. Although I must admit, he wasn't the easiest person in the world to interrogate, particularly with his little friend there. They really were quite irritating."

"Why were you interrogating him? Was he involved in a case?" L asked, though with C and Mello, it would be a miracle if it was something so simple.

"No, I just don't take too kindly to people who try to kill me."

"Why did Mello try to kill you?" L asked, beginning to wonder if they were secretly playing a game of twenty questions. Maybe at the end of it, C would actually tell him something useful.

"Why don't you ask him, or his friend Matt? I'm sure they'll be more than willing to tell you all of the reasons why I'm a heartless demon who is not to be trusted. Or, alternatively, you could try contacting your old friend, Beyond Birthday. I never told him anything, but he's an intelligent man. I'm sure he's drawn some rather interesting conclusions by now," C smirked as though the very idea amused him.

"You met B?" L asked, his voice rising slightly with incredulity. When had _that_ happened? It must have been after B left Wammy's, but most likely before he went to LA. Where had C been in that time frame? L racked his brain furiously but came up empty.

"That I did. An unusual individual, wouldn't you agree, L? The resemblance between the two of you is remarkable, considering you aren't related to one another... However, I'm getting sidetracked. One of the many downsides to being a genius plagued with so many thoughts, don't you find? Truthfully, I came here to ask you how the Kira case is progressing." C tilted his head to one side, surveying L with a piercing gaze. "Assuming, of course, that you chose to take it on. I can't imagine you refusing a case as huge as this."

"I have already contacted Interpol and informed them of all of my theories, speculations and all of the solid data we've managed to gather in the short time that Kira has been active. Also, I've started to plan out various ways of making Kira come out into the open and show us his true colours and where to go from there, whether he falls for it or not. Hopefully, it will also reveal to us how he kills and whether there is any link between factors such as the time and place of both Kira and the victim."

"I see. Very interesting, and highly logical of you, L. Now, allow me to tell you what I think about the case.

"Kira is human, and he works alone – in the conventional sense – though his murder weapon was not created by human hands, nor was it ever intended to be used by a human. I'm not precisely sure what it is or what it looks like, but it requires both a name and face to kill," C ticked off on his fingers.

"And of course, he kills using heart attacks," L added, and C frowned slightly, tapping a long finger against his chin.

"So far, yes, but there's no evidence to suggest that he is only capable of killing using heart attacks," C said carefully, very determinedly avoiding L's gaze.

"Yes, but there's also no evidence to suggest that he is _not_ only capable of killing using heart attacks," L replied childishly, resisting the urge to stick out his tongue and add a 'so _there_!' C laughed whole-heartedly.

"Ah, I suppose you've got me there," he shrugged. "But for now, when faced with so many uncertain variables, I think it might be best to keep an open mind about the case, wouldn't you agree? It would be rather humiliating for you to be proved wrong over something so trivial now, wouldn't it?" L sighed, nodding his agreement.

"I guess so – we're dealing with too many unknown factors here; I don't like it. The way Kira seems capable of killing from a distance using a heart attack... It seems almost supernatural, and I severely dislike things like that."

C stared at him, his expression unreadable beneath the mask, but had L not known better, he might have thought that he detected a glimmer of hurt in the other man's eyes.

"What's so dreadful about the supernatural?" C asked, one eyebrow quirked curiously. "I find it to be a fascinating and diverse subject."

"That may be, but it's hardly applicable in the real world, particularly when I'm working on a case," L said, unsure of what he had said to upset the other man, if indeed he had been reading into his expression correctly.

"Is that so, L?" C asked, standing and stretching before heading towards the glass door – L thought he saw him do a double take, but it may have been his imagination. "Well then, you'll love me." He opened the door.

"And why is that?" L asked, trying to quash his growing sense of panic and nausea at the thought of C jumping from the window – though he was undoubtedly capable of it. That would certainly be difficult to explain to the authorities. C turned back to give him a disturbingly wide smile, a strange laugh spilling from his lips like liquid mercury.

"Because I'm as supernatural as they come," he said, before he vanished – black mask and all.

* * *

"I think I like her," Ienipa mused, stepping out of the car and gently closing the door, letting one glove-covered hand rest against the metal for a moment. "Naomi, I mean. She seems to be quite a strong young woman."

"Yes, I'll agree with you there," Yoru said, idly tugging at one of his lip rings. "She took everything in stride, didn't she? I hardly heard her heartbeat alter once!"

"Nor I. I don't think there is anyone better to be Light's assistant in the human world – she seems to be very well suited to the job. And she cares for him; did you hear how worried she was for him when Akuma first attacked? She is a good person," Ienipa continued, frowning slightly when Wicked interrupted her.

"A good person or not, she is still human, regardless of how 'well-suited' she is for the job; she is fragile, and it is possible she will die whilst aiding Light. Though I feel Akuma took her opinions too far, she did have a point in that we cannot be the woman's bodyguards. The ring will mostly protect her from vampire attacks, but she is still vulnerable to the attacks of other humans."

"Wicked, you saw as plain as we did that she will not die for a good many years!" Ienipa protested.

"Be that as it may, we cannot guarantee that those years will be spent well – if she were attacked tomorrow and crippled, do you really think Light would be able to use her anymore? We are vampires; unlike these humans, we will live for centuries to come. We cannot afford to form attachments to mortals, no matter how slight."

"I understand that well enough, Wicked," Ienipa replied, walking back towards the house as the group of vampires realised how little time they had left before sunrise. "I was merely commenting that she was good at the job she has been given."

"Personally, I don't think it really matters," Yoru said. "Her death is as inevitable as the sun rising in a few minutes, and the day on which she dies is merely a detail. No, she isn't immortal and yes, one day she will – ah, what's the phrase? – 'kick the bucket', but until then, she can do her job, and she can do it well."

"Well said my friend!" Kietheren crowed as they walked in the door. "And welcome back!"

"Who won?" Yoru asked immediately.

"They reached a mutual understanding," Warui shrugged.

"Well that's no fun at all," Yoru frowned, heading over to his chess board in the corner, where he immediately commenced playing himself, as Light wasn't here to face him.

"Exactly what I said," Kietheren nodded vigorously, strands of dark hair falling across his face.

"_Actually,_ you said 'shit, does that mean I don't get any money?' as I recall," Akuma butted in. "Sorry I flipped out earlier, guys. I've promised Light that I'm not going to kill him, so you don't need to worry about that."

"What a relief," Wicked said, in a tone that was as close to sarcasm as she would ever get. "Perhaps now he can focus on catching and hopefully killing Kira."

"How d'you think he'll do it?" Kietheren asked, and the broad grin on his face told the others that he was hoping for something he would deem _exciting_.

"With Light? He'll probably analyse everything that Kira does for a couple of days, use that information to deduce his personality, use his deductions to calculate the next twenty possible moves Kira could make and then think of twenty possible counter-moves in response to each possibility," Yoru shrugged as he captured a white bishop.

"That sounds like Light," Warui agreed, and the others all nodded. "But seriously, then what?"

"Then?" Yoru asked, drawing everyone's attention back as he carelessly flicked over the black king.

"Checkmate."

* * *

**Oooo, things are really getting interesting now! You'd need a carving knife to cut the air, the tension's so thick! So come on - send me your virtual carving knives with reviews (or chainsaws; they work too, as Grell from Kuroshitsuji knows)**

**As to the title 'confession', that refers to the fact that Light has just confessed A LOT of stuff to L that he would never say to another human, ever. Most of you probably got that, but just in case :P**


	14. Friend

**Hello again! I'm so sorry for the break between updates - I've recently gone back to school,and our exams are next month, so all of the teachers are stressed out, and so are we, and ugh. I hate exams. So, for that reason, updates are probably going to be quite irregular from here on out. It'll probably last until the summer holidays, so about two months or so. Maybe more, maybe less. Either way, I'm not going to be giving up on this, so no worries there! It'll just be a bit longer between chapters, that's all.**

**I so wish I owned Death Note, but it's quite clear now that I do not. Please support the official release, yadda yadda.**

**Chapter 13: Friend**

* * *

Ryuk grinned at the strange human (?) as he leapt across the gap between the buildings the way most humans jumped over puddles – that was to say, effortlessly. Light Yagami sure looked interesting, even if he _was_ technically dead. Or something. Whatever. He was _interesting_, and that was all that really mattered, right?

Ryuk was dying – ha, yeah, funny – to know what was going on with this guy. He was weird, even by the human's bizarre standards, and that was saying something. Maybe he should've spent a little more time watching the humans before dropping his death note. At least that way he might've had some idea about what was up with this human.

"Hey, Light," Ryuk said, angered slightly when the guy ignored him. "Light! Hey, _Light_! Can you even hear me? Hey, _Light Yagami_!"

"Yes I can hear you," Light hissed, glaring at Ryuk from the corners of his eyes; the anger made even Ryuk shiver with a twisted version of fear, something that was shameful to the shinigami. "But this really isn't the time or the place to talk. Follow me, and we can have a civil discussion when we get back."

"Yeah, yeah, fine, whatever," Ryuk agreed, flying easily after Light; he was sure that humans couldn't move this fast – if they could, then they wouldn't bother with cars and trains, right? What did that say about little old Light? "Where are we going?"

"To my place. Judging by L's lack of reaction to you standing on his balcony, I'll hazard a guess that humans can't see you, thankfully. That would be difficult to explain to my neighbours."

"_Hyuk, hyuk,_ I bet it would," Ryuk laughed. "No worries there though, most humans can't see me. You seem to be the exception."

"Hardly – I would have to be human to be the exception to that rule," Light replied, increasing his speed even further – Ryuk's wings were starting to ache from trying to keep up with him. Ryuk had never realised that shinigami could get tired until now. Man, this guy could really run when he wanted to... and jump, Ryuk amended, remembering the distances Light leapt across with seemingly no effort whatsoever.

"So you're not human then?" Ryuk asked, his wings almost blurring as they flapped quickly enough to keep up with Light.

"I thought I made that quite obvious," Light scoffed, and Ryuk came about as close to pouting as any shinigami could manage.

"Okay, I get it, you aren't human, jeez. No need to get stress 'bout it," Ryuk said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Guess that explains why you've been dead for, like, five years or whatever."

"I died five years ago. That doesn't mean that I'm dead now – I'm still alive, in a way," Light said somewhat cryptically, and Ryuk didn't bother to even try deciphering his statement; it would only make his head hurt. He could ask Light to explain it later on.

"Uh yeah, sure," Ryuk agreed, acting as though he had understood whatever the hell Light had just said.

"Here we are," Light said, dropping down into a black, deserted alleyway with a silent grace Ryuk couldn't remember seeing in any other species. That sure was weird – what was this guy?

"You live _here_?" Ryuk asked, looking around the alley. Alright, so he didn't know much about humans, but he was pretty sure that that wasn't normal for humans who dressed and spoke as well as Light did.

"Very funny, Ryuk," Light said, rolling his eyes. "My apartment's just across the street."

As they walked – and flew – across the road, the only thing Ryuk could think was that he had never told Light his name.

* * *

"Oh, he sounds so dreamy!" Misa sighed as she gazed at the computer screen with adoring eyes. She had spent most of the night reading about her saviour 'C' and all of his heroic deeds. "I can't believe nobody's ever heard of him!"

He sounded like a true old-fashioned knight in shining armour; protecting the weak and the innocent from all of the bad guys. A little bit like Kira, only better, because he was in the fray himself. He put himself in danger for the benefit of others, rather than sitting back and sending anonymous heart attacks the way other people sent bouquets of flowers.

"He knew my name! He came to save me personally, and he knew my name! He must be in love with me," Misa continued, her thoughts entirely focused on her newest obsession. Forget that guy who sang that song in that band she had liked – she couldn't even remember his name now – C was the one for her!

From what she had read, it was very rare for C to actually attack and capture a criminal in front of civilians or police – that was part of the reason it had been so easy for the law enforcement agencies to keep his existence quiet for so long. Had she come across this website a few short days ago, Misa would have dismissed it as a silly conspiracy-theory someone had come up with to try to scare people; now, she knew better.

C must _really _like her if he risked showing himself to her like that! Most of the time, he worked quietly and anonymously – a lot of the stuff on the website was pure guesswork. That didn't discourage her; if anything, it made her more determined to go out and find C herself, so that she could find out all about him, and maybe even be the first person to see his face whilst knowing who he was. That would be _so_ amazing. He was probably really handsome, and maybe he would even let her call him by his real name!

There was no way she could let this go, but according to the website, C only ever went after criminals, particularly those who had committed serious offenses. There had to be a way she could get herself noticed by him...

* * *

"Naomi! You're home, at last. I was really worried about you all night," Raye said, warmly embracing his fiancée the moment she walked in the door.

"You know, that would've been really embarrassing if it had been my mother walking in," Naomi replied, hugging him back with all of her strength. After the insanity of the past night, Raye felt warm and reassuringly human. Her anchor to the real world within the shadows of the hidden supernatural. Raye knew nothing of vampires and shinigami, didn't understand about Kira and death notes. He was beautifully human, and she loved him all the more for that.

"I know you too well – I could _sense_ you coming closer," Raye teased, and Naomi laughed along at the old inside joke. When Raye said something like that, he didn't mean it in an inhuman, supernatural way; not like some others might.

"Hm, attuned to my presence, are you?" She teased back, drawing him in for a quick kiss. "Sorry I'm so late, I ran into some old friends, and we got talking..." Naomi trailed off when she realised that her lie didn't even sound convincing to herself. Raye sighed softly.

"It was something to do with your _other job_, wasn't it? The secret one," Raye said, his voice slightly hurt. Naomi shut her eyes and rested her forehead on his shoulder.

"Yes," she whispered. "I wish I could tell you, but I don't want to put you in danger, and I can't betray my friends like that. They trusted me with their secret; I'm so sorry, Raye."

"Don't be," Raye mumbled into her hair. "I understand. Besides, once we have a couple of kids running around you'll have to give up this dangerous job of yours, and then I can stop worrying about you twenty-four/seven."

"You can't lecture me about having a dangerous job," Naomi reminded him gently. "Mr. FBI. Let me guess, you've been given a new mission that's big hush-hush."

"How did you know?" Raye asked sheepishly.

"You've got that look on your face that you always wear when you don't want to tell me something, and since it isn't my birthday soon, I can guess that it isn't a surprise party," she sighed, winding her arms even tighter around him.

"Right once again, special agent Misora," Raye laughed lightly, though it sounded strained. "I've been ordered to investigate Kira suspects once L's got a decent lead... Naomi? Naomi!"

Naomi didn't hear him. She was too busy fainting.

* * *

Light shrugged off his coat and hung it on the stand near the door the moment he stepped inside his apartment. The shinigami Ryuk followed him, sliding through the wooden door as though it wasn't there, before heading straight into the kitchen, muttering something about apples. This time, Light followed the shinigami at a slightly slower pace, hopping up to sit on the counter when he saw that the shinigami was intent on searching through all of his cupboards.

"What did you want to talk about?" Light asked, distracting Ryuk from his quest momentarily. The god of death shrugged slightly, the black feathers at his shoulders rustling almost inaudibly.

"I was wondering why you've been dead for so long, even though you're still walking around and all," Ryuk replied. "And you knew my name, even though I never told you. So, spill. What the hell are you?"

"You mean you don't know?" Light raised an incredulous eyebrow. "That's strange. I know quite a bit about your kind, shinigami; yet it seems that you know nothing of mine."

"Aw come on, don't leave me hanging! What are you?" Ryuk asked, his permanent, grotesque grin spreading wider across his face.

"Is it not obvious? I am a vampire," Light smirked. "I would've thought a shinigami would be a little more knowledgeable where the supernatural's concerned."

"No way! You're seriously a vampire? How very... interesting. I don't suppose you know these six vampires..." Ryuk trailed off suggestively, and Light softly under his breath. Damn shinigami, of course he would've known Light's coven. How could Light have forgotten such an important detail?

"How could I not know them?" Light asked bitterly. "They live not far from here; it was actually one of them who changed me in the first place."

"_Hyuk, hyuk_. Which one was it? Kietheren, I bet, right? He hates being bored almost as much as I do."

"Oh, no; Wicked actually. She said that saw potential in me that she hadn't before witnessed in any other human – her words, not mine," Light scowled slightly at the memory, still slightly resentful of the fact that he had been changed for her amusement.

"Right, well I don't really know which is which since five of 'em changed their names, but never mind," Ryuk shrugged. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two, if you include the five years since my rebirth," Light replied. "Seventeen if you don't."

"You're pretty young then, even for a human, huh?" Ryuk said, and Light couldn't help but compare his voice to that of a sixty-a-day chain smoker. "Whaddya going to do with all that eternity you've got left?"

"I decided that after my rebirth, I would live in the moment wherever it was possible," Light replied with a shrug. "The concept of eternity can be a little overwhelming at times, so I tend not to plan more than a few years ahead. What about you? What do you do? Besides dropping death notes and creating psychotic mass-murderers, of course."

"Gamble mostly," Ryuk chuckled – so that was where Kietheren and Warui had got it from. "Sometimes we see who can kill the most humans without them getting suspicious, but that's only once every few hundred years or so. Ever heard of the Black Death? That was great."

"That was you?" Light asked sceptically.

"Well, me and a few others, yeah. I did Pompeii, though," Ryuk said, looking absurdly proud of himself.

"I do hope you realise that my opinion of you has just dropped very dramatically," Light said, mildly disgusted.

"I don't care about stuff like that," Ryuk laughed. "You looked like you might be entertaining, so I followed you. You can think whatever you like about me, it doesn't matter. Either way, I gotta get back to my death note – can't be away from it for too long, you know? Later."

Without giving Light the chance to respond, Ryuk flew straight through the ceiling, chuckling quietly to himself as he went. Light sighed agitatedly, rubbing his forehead to dispel the lingering headache that had been building behind his eyes. The sun wasn't far from rising, yet Light didn't feel tired enough to sleep. His mind refused to quiet down, his thoughts bouncing around wildly.

This might have been a good time to sit down and really start to plan what he would do next about the whole Kira fiasco – having met Ryuk and experienced firsthand his casual attitude, Light could only conclude that he either didn't know or didn't care about the prophecy of Kira the destroyer of mankind. At this point in time, it was impossible for Light to determine which was more likely, so he put it from his mind.

Instead, he switched on the TV, flicking idly through a couple of channels until he reached one of the more reliable news programmes. He shut his eyes, leaning back against the soft, thoughtfully licking his lips – L's blood had tasted exactly as it had smelled. Sweet, almost to the point of being sickening, though with an underlying bitterness; it was completely addictive, and already Light was craving more of it.

Somehow – though he wasn't entirely sure how – he had managed to restrain himself when he had caught the first whiff of exposed blood; he had lost control for a split second, and he was sure that L had noticed something off about the speed of his reaction. He had bitten through the skin of his lip, gently smearing the wound on L's thumb with his own blood – the tear in the human's skin had immediately healed over, as had the small cut on Light's lip. No harm done; in theory.

As it was, Light more animalistic now wanted nothing more than to taste L's blood again – to drain that pale, fragile body of its lifeblood, and watch as the light and the intelligence slowly faded from the deep grey eyes. The rational, humane – ha! A humane vampire – side of him wanted to get to know L; to meet and speak with him again, to find out more about the peculiar human.

"And now we have a special broadcast," the reporter announced, and Light lazily opened one eye to gaze dispassionately at the screen. A man sat behind a desk, the name-card in front of him reading 'Lind L. Tailor'. A quick glance above the man's head with blazing eyes confirmed his identity, and Light settled himself back, wondering what this was all about.

"My name is Lind L. Tailor, otherwise known as L."

_What?_

* * *

L waited impatiently by the phone, his laptop switched on and at the ready for the moment he needed to intervene. He was sure that C would be watching this, and when he saw what was happening, the infuriating man was sure to call him; at least, there was an eight nine percent chance that he would, based on C's personality.

Sure enough, hardly a minute later, the phone began ringing shrilly, the noise grating at L's nerves. He picked it up before it had a chance to ring a second time, and smiled slightly when he heard C's amused voice on the other end.

"Care to explain why you have a man on TV pretending to be you?" C asked, and L could hear the faint sounds of the news programme on in the background of wherever C happened to be at that moment in time.

"It's quite simple; I want to discover Kira's whereabouts and the extent of his powers. I need to know his limitations, and once I've determined all of those factors, I believe it will be quite a bit easier to track Kira down and bring him to justice, once and for all."

"If you insist," C replied calmly. "I suppose you will be requesting the help of a few trusted members of the NPA?"

"Something along those lines," L replied, relieved to finally have an equal; someone who understood his plans before he even voiced them, and who could comprehend his rather chaotic train of thought. "I was rather hoping that you might be inclined to join us."

"That may not be possible," C said, somewhat evasively. "Either way, I will be sure to contact you regularly, and if I myself am unable to join your little taskforce, then I will certainly send one of my assistants."

"Thank you, you're most kind," L said, his voice treading that thin, thin line between sincerity and sarcasm. It seemed that C appreciated his sense of humour, for the laugh he heard was genuine and carefree; so far removed from the mocking, cynical laughs from before that L found it difficult to believe that this was the same person.

"So I've been told," he responded cheerfully. "Hm. It seems your little impersonator has just run afoul of Kira's temper."

"Yes, it looks like he has. Would you mind keeping quiet for a moment while I speak to the good people of the Kanto region? It would be most appreciated."

"But of course." L could almost _see_ the smirk on C's masked face, and he gritted his teeth, grateful that the voice alteration equipment would mask his emotions.

True to his word, C remained silent throughout the entire live broadcast, listening as L explained – to the general public, the police, C and Kira – what had just happened. Yet L felt that his silence said more than his words could ever manage. He seemed to be thinking hard, and L was sure that he sensed a slight aura of respect; as though C was impressed by what he had achieved, and for some reason, that made L feel happier than he had in a very long time.

"Well, that was certainly something," C said once L had finished and switched of all of the equipment that had allowed him to be heard by the general public for the first time in his short yet illustrious career. L sighed quietly, taking a sip of his now stone-cold coffee, sweetened by about eight sugar cubes.

"Wasn't it just?" L murmured, and to be perfectly honest, he didn't expect C to have heard him – yet the young man laughed, so L could only assume that either he hadn't mumbled as quietly as he thought he had, or C had superhuman hearing.

"I must say, that was very impressive, L," C admitted. "Though I must admit, I'm exceedingly grateful that you decided not to personally go on TV – I would've hated to see you die."

"Is that so? And why is that, Mr. Mystery?" L asked, firmly squashing the ever-growing warm glow that spread throughout his chest.

"Because, L, I have come to think of you as my friend – the first real friend I have had in a long, long time."

That was all that was needed to send L's heart into overdrive.

* * *

**And there is the next chapter! Whoo, all done. So, until next time guys, later!!**


	15. Wager

**Hehe, yeah, it's been a long time since my last update... um, whoops? In my defence, I have about seven exams coming up, one of which is on Wednesday, and I probably should be revising - ignoring the fact that I have already spent about two hours today revising and doing homework. Gah, I hate school.**

**On a more positive note... actually I can't think of anything at the moment... Give me a while, I'm sure something'll come to me.**

**Disclaimer: does what it says on the tin lovelies.**

**Chapter 14: Wager**

* * *

Oh, this wasn't good – not good at all. L knew the consequences of having friends; knew very well how friendship set one up for betrayal and tore people apart. Yet that didn't seem to be what was making his heartbeat so erratic. L couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew that there was something off about this. He had feigned friendship before for cases, and he knew that he shouldn't have such a strong reaction to C's simple statement. Odds were, this was simply C's way of getting closer to him for the Kira case and nothing more.

Why did that thought make L's chest ache with an intensity he had never before experienced?

"I also think of you as a friend," L replied, fighting to control his tone of voice and to steady his breathing. One pale thumb rested against his slightly parted lips – he needed it there to help him focus. "One of my first friends."

There didn't seem to be any harm in admitting to the fact that he was antisocial – it was a part of the job description, after all. C was probably already aware of that, even if he himself had never experienced it, and so L thought that it was a safe piece of information to reveal about himself. Though their so-called 'friendship' was a little dysfunctional – they didn't even know each others' names – that didn't change the fact that they were both human, and as such had probably craved human contact at some time in their lives. Particularly contact with someone who was their intellectual equal, something that didn't come along every day.

"I'm glad to hear it," C said, and to L's surprise, he sounded as though he actually meant it. He hadn't been expecting that, but it was pleasant to hear nonetheless. Of course, there was still always the possibility that C was just an extraordinary liar.

"I'm afraid I need to go now," C said abruptly, dragging L from his thoughts. "I'm going to be quite busy for a while, so I'll need to prepare. I hope we can speak again soon, L."

"Yes, I hope so too," L agreed. "It was a pleasure speaking with you, C." A hearty laugh echoed through the room.

"Come now, L, I know you don't mean that," C chuckled. "You were quite annoyed with me at times; I could hear it in your voice. However, I did enjoy talking to you, L. Until next time, I will say goodbye." A soft click, and C was gone, the connection lost.

L took a deep, steadying breath, wrestling his emotions back under control by sheer force of will. Even if C had meant every word he said, it didn't change the fact that L had important business to attend to. He would take C's advice, he decided, and contact a few old acquaintances, to see what they had to say.

After his last conversation with Mello, L wasn't overly eager to speak with the blond boy again – that left very few people. He supposed he could start with Beyond Birthday – after all, it wouldn't be too difficult to persuade the owner of the prison for the criminally insane at which Beyond was held to set up a video and audio link. If there was one thing L was good at, it was pulling strings.

However, he was slightly apprehensive about talking to B; L didn't like to be reminded of his failures, and Beyond certainly counted as one of those. He should have seen the signs earlier – they had all been there, but he had blinded himself to them, because of his feelings and his _friendship. _

L sighed unhappily, delicately selecting a sugar cube from the glass bowl that sat on the coffee table, turning it around between his fingers a few times. His gaze was intense as he stared at the small block of sugar, his thoughts chasing each other in pointless circles. Despite the fact that he knew he should really be concentrating on the Kira case, his thoughts kept drifting back to a certain brown-eyed, brown-haired masked detective.

Eventually he gave up; the Kira case would have to wait for now.

L needed to speak to Beyond Birthday.

* * *

When Naomi's eyes opened, it took her a few seconds to realise why the ceiling was so much lighter than it was usually in the hallway – apparently, Raye had kindly moved her to the bedroom after she had collapsed. Her head was still spinning crazily, and she had the peculiar feeling that she had just stepped off of a fairground ride; like the waltzers or the teacups. Dear God, she hated fairs.

Pulling herself into a sitting position, Naomi glanced around the room, trying to piece together her rather fragmented memories of what had occurred just before she fainted. She had walked in the door, only to be tackled into a hug by her fiancée Raye... she had apologised for being late, and there had been a short bout of teasing between the two of them, before...

Naomi clamped a hand over her mouth, fighting back the rising nausea with all of her willpower. According to the vampires, Kira could kill anyone with nothing more than a name a face; he had a shinigami's notebook after all. If Raye was investigating Kira, and he was sent after the right person... Naomi was hardly aware of her shaking shoulders and quick, gasping breaths.

_I need to call Light_, she thought desperately. _He needs to know about this; there must be something he can do – pull a few strings or find a way to make sure that Kira can't kill Raye. He'll know what to do._

"Naomi? You're awake?" Raye asked, walking into the room with two steaming cups of what smelled like coffee. She gratefully accepted one of the mugs, glad that Raye had a knack for making the perfect coffee for her mood – this one tasted slightly sweet, like vanilla. It was calming and mellow, exactly what she needed after her mild panic attack.

The soothing heat spread gently from the coffee mug, seeping into her hands and warming them – they had felt disgustingly clammy before, and she was glad that she held this cleansing heat. Naomi was still tired and slightly dizzy, but she bit her lip and forced it back, unwilling to cause Raye any more trouble than she already had. He insisted time and time again that he didn't mind taking care of her, and that she deserved to be taken care of, but her unwillingness to be a burden was only a part of the reason.

Her parents had always believed very much in the idea that a woman's place was in the home, and though she did love them very much, such a restrictive lifestyle was not for her. In fact, their stubborn beliefs had only encouraged her to join the FBI when she was in America. Being taken care of by Raye like this made her feel weak and useless; a feeling she absolutely detested.

"Yeah, sorry for freaking out earlier," she apologised with a laugh, sheepishly rubbing at the back of her neck. "I'm not quite sure what came over me."

"It's fine, Naomi," Raye reassured her with a gentle smile. "I probably would have reacted the same way if you'd told me that you were going after Kira. But don't worry – I'll be fine. He won't even know that I'm following him."

Raye sounded so confident, so sure of himself and his abilities; Naomi only wished that she could share his conviction. Alright, so she knew that Raye was excellent at his job, and if this were any other case with any average criminal, then she probably wouldn't be worried. As it was, she was absolutely petrified – this was the Kira case, and Kira was no ordinary criminal. He had the power to kill almost anyone he wished.

She knew that. Raye didn't.

"Maybe, maybe not," she murmured, gazing into the now empty coffee mug – how had she drank so much coffee without realising? Raye glanced at her curiously but didn't reply. Naomi sighed and took a deep breath.

"Raye, do you think you could pass me the phone? There are some people I think we need to talk to."

* * *

Light fell back onto his bed with an exhausted sigh, finally allowing his eyes to slide shut, shielding them from the small amount of sunlight that filtered through the fabric of the curtains. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically; something that didn't happen often.

He had spent three hours of his time searching through lists of confirmed Kira victims, as well as possible victims, before deciding that he might as well do this properly, and checked the records of all the recent fatal heart attacks in the Kanto region. Even with his superior intellect, it had been a daunting task, and Light was ready to pass out.

However, he had discovered something extremely interesting – of the many, _many_ people who had died of heart attack, seven of them had been leading businessmen, all of whom had had no previous heart problems. Now, had it only been one, two or possibly even three people, Light would've written it off as a coincidence – humans were fragile creatures, after all, and such things did happen from time to time. Seven, though; seven men, all from competing companies, died within the space of a couple of weeks, despite having no previous heart complaints. No underlying illnesses, nothing.

It hadn't taken more than a few seconds after discovering this for Light to find a pattern – all of the major businesses had been affected. All of them, that was to say, apart from the Yotsuba corporation. Thus, Light could deduce that Kira was most probably a leading member of Yotsuba – the only problem was, which one.

Having trawled through all of the files he could hack into (or, to put it another way, all of the files they possessed) Light had finally managed to narrow it down to about twenty people; he hadn't been able to reduce the list any further than that. Apparently, the company's security was so tight that they didn't keep photos of their higher-ranking employees on the database; Light couldn't simply look to see which one of them was missing a lifespan. Even so, he was very pleased with the progress he had made, and fully intended to carry on as soon as the sun went down and effectively woke him from his slumber.

Light wasn't so lucky.

The shrill ringing of his personal mobile phone wrenched him back from his half-unconscious state, and Light grumbled under his breath in four languages about how irritating this person was. Anyone who phoned his personal phone knew him, and knew what he was – therefore, they should know better than to phone him in the middle of the day when he _should_ be sleeping. He glanced cursorily at the number and raised an eyebrow when he saw who it was.

"This had better be good, Misora," he said, struggling to keep the growl from his voice. "I've had about five hours sleep in the past three days."

"I'm sorry, but I was wondering if you have any news on the Kira case; Raye's been ordered to investigate it, and I'm worried for him."

"And you woke me up for this?" Light asked, too tired to bother with his usually impeccable manners. He was sure that Naomi would understand – his sleeping patterns had been interrupted by her, after all, as she damn well knew.

"I'm sorry, Hikaru," she said, resorting easily to Light's favoured false identity. "But he's being very insistent, and you need to explain to him all that you've told me!"

"Miss. Misora, I almost died when I told _you_ everything that I know – do you really think that they'll be so forgiving a second time around? If you're really so afraid, I'll see if I can pull some strings and make sure he's assigned to someone that I can guarantee is not Kira, but I will _not_ put us all in danger from my family's wrath by explaining to him what's going on. I suggest that if you value your life, you'll do the same," Light sighed, too tired to really argue. He had caved somewhat to her desperation, but that was as much as he would do.

"Thank you, Hikaru, but are you sure there's nothing else you can do at all?" Naomi asked, her voice slightly calmer now that her husband was out of immediate danger.

"Call me back tonight once I've had a few hours sleep, and I'll be more inclined to negotiate with you," Light yawned, running a hand agitatedly through his hair. "Until then, good day, Miss. Misora," he said, hanging up without bothering to wait for a reply.

Light rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his hand, an image of dark eyes and even darker hair springing forth, drenched in beautiful crimson – Light bit down on his lip until it bled before licking the blood from the healing wound. It wasn't the same; the flavour was deeper and richer, but not nearly as satisfying, and Light wanted to punch himself for even imagining L like that. Covered in his own blood; it certainly made for a tempting picture, but Light refused to dwell on it. He was as civilised as vampires could get, and wouldn't allow his instincts to ruin five years of hard work.

Keeping his eye firmly closed, Light began counting bats – his twisted version of counting sheep, simply because he enjoyed the irony. He must have been even more tired than he had previously thought – it was mere minutes before he was asleep, dead to the world.

When he dreamed, his eyes saw only red.

* * *

"What did you just say?" Ryuk scratched his head with long, talon-like fingers, perpetual grin shrinking slightly at the tone of voice the human put on. Normally he would've laughed at the notion of a shinigami being afraid of a human, but this was different. This human would stop him eating _apples_

"Well, I was eavesdropping on this human, and he said that some guy was gonna start trailing the Kira suspects," Ryuk repeated, shrugging slightly, despite the fact that he was floating cross-legged, upside-down somewhere near the ceiling. Small things like gravity and the laws of nature didn't bother the shinigami. "So I guess you'd better make sure nobody starts following you, huh?"

"And why," the human Kira said through gritted teeth. "Did you not tell me this earlier?"

"Hey, hey, calm down!" Ryuk said, holding up both his hands in mock-human-surrender. "I only found out about it today, and it was kind of a coincidence." In actual fact, it had been Ryuk's boredom driving him to go and bug Light again, particularly since he knew vampires hated daylight – but then he'd decided to listen in to Light's conversation.

At first he had thought that he wouldn't tell Kira what was going on – it would be more fun to sit back and watch it all unfold. The he'd realised that whoever was following Kira would – though unintentionally – be following him as well. Now, Ryuk wasn't really that worried about it or anything; the human probably wouldn't even be able to see him. It was just that the thought of being followed all of the time was a little bit creepy and annoying.

... No wonder Kira got so pissed at him.

"Ryuk, if someone starts to follow me, do you think you could get their name for me?" Kira asked, his sharp eyes on Ryuk's face. Ryuk didn't even have to think about this one – it was a no-brainer.

"Sorry, no can do – against the rules and all, you know?" Ryuk replied disinterestedly, not even bothering to mention the shinigami eyes; all in good time, and all that.

"Then will _you_ kill him for me?" Kira asked, a note of desperation in his voice, and Ryuk stifled a snigger – he was a really pathetic human, if he wasn't even going to try to search for a solution to his own problems.

"Nah, can't do that either," he said, thoroughly enjoying tormenting the human he followed. It was almost as fun as annoying Light.

Ryuk felt his eyes widen slightly as Kira flew into a rage, charging around the room and smashing anything breakable – as well as throwing anything that wasn't. Quickly, Ryuk flew backwards through the wall towards the outside, deciding that it was about time he beat a strategic retreat.

There was nothing wrong with being cautious, he concluded as the sound of yet another precious vase shattering reached his eardrums.

Well, it's not like he had nothing else to do.

* * *

Akuma smirked slightly as she strutted through the hordes of humans, Kietheren to her left and Warui on her right. She knew that they were attracting a lot of attention, and she thrived on it – this sort of thing happened every time they left the house. The three vampires _were_ very attention grabbing after all. Images, visions flashed through her mind, each showing the death of a different human, but she had long since learned to ignore it. Humans died every day, and watching these deaths was not particularly bad for her.

Kietheren just kept grinning, knowing full well that his near-permanent smile had a tendency to scare humans – that was why he wore it. He was perfectly aware of all of the strange looks they were receiving, and that only made him smile wider. Every human he passed was profiled under his unflinching gaze, and he found that not one of them stood out from the others. They were all selfish, lazy, greedy creatures; it was no wonder he felt not a flicker of remorse when he killed them.

Warui walked calmly with the others, pointedly ignoring the many humans that swarmed around the city like insects, mulling over recent events. There had always been something about Light that he had never really been able to warm up to, but even so, he was civil for the sake of his family. Now that his strange feelings and suspicions had been proved correct, he didn't want to tear the fragile peace by standing up and saying 'I told you so'. There would be plenty of time for that later, once this mess was sorted out.

The two 'young' men understood exactly how Akuma felt, and knew that after her fight with her almost-brother she needed to let out some steam. As per usual, she had wanted to go out and annoy some humans – how they did so varied from childishly hiding in the shadows and calling to people to predicting their deaths. It was all good fun, and an excellent way to take their minds off of more serious matters.

Eventually stopping in a small, out-of-the-way bar popular amongst both humans and vampires, the three of them strolled in, ordering 'the usual' from the landlord. That being, O-negative for Kietheren, beer for Warui, and a strange blend of Malibu and blood for Akuma that smelled disgusting but apparently tasted divine.

Not really interested in what was happening but with nothing better to do, the three of them began listening in on other people's conversations – one of the most popular topics seemed to be the arrival of a new slayer. New to Tokyo, at least; this one, this _Mello_ was quite well know, and had made a name for himself in England before moving on to other, larger countries. Now he was in Japan, for whatever reason.

Perhaps it had to do with the appearance of Kira... or maybe it was more to do with Light's increased activities. He did mention that he had met Mello once before, as C; perhaps the slayer was keeping tabs on him.

Either way, the vampires were taking bets on who could bring him down first – never one to miss a chance to gamble, Kietheren immediately butted in, offering a ridiculous amount of money that the others were sure he would never pay; regardless of whether he lost or not. However, they didn't bother to drag him away – no one would dare complain, even if he didn't pay them.

He just had that sort of effect on people, humans and vampires alike.

The sound of hands being clapped and clasped was loud for a few moments as the wager was cemented, and instinctively the two spectators knew that a lot had been placed on the outcome.

Kietheren wouldn't lose; they knew that much. His pride wouldn't allow him to lose.

_Mello'd better watch out,_ they thought. _Now he's as good as dead._

* * *

**Nya, sucky chapter this time. I'm tired, and my brain hurts from revising. And I died a couple of weeks ago (inside joke :P) Numb my aching brain and review please?**


	16. Decision

**SCHOOL'S OUT FOR SUMMER! I'm finally off of school, so with any luck the updates will be (slightly) more frequent. Nowall I need to do is start studying for next year and wait for my exam results X'( Ah well.**

**I doubt this measly little chapter will make up for the stupidly long wait, but please accept my humble apologies. I am at your mercy.**

**Disclaimer: If Death Note were mine, Ryuk would've made a complete fool of himself trying to flirt with Rem (because it would be completely hilarious XD) Clearly, Death Note isn't mine.**

**Chapter 15: Decision**

* * *

Restless fingers tapped agitatedly against the coffee table as L waited for the video feed to link up the other end. His mind spun in dizzying circles as he tried desperately to make heads or tails of C's many irritating clues. L was determined that he would solve this 'case', but it seemed that he would not be able to do so without the aid of Beyond Birthday.

To say that L was apprehensive about speaking to his former protégé would be a severe understatement. Beyond was insane – L knew that, so why was he risking not only his anonymity, but also his sanity? For C, of course. Everything L did these days seemed to be for C, or if not, then he was always wondering whether or not C would approve of his actions, whether C would take notice of them. It was beyond an obsession now, and L knew that Watari was beginning to worry about him.

In fact, L was beginning to worry about himself. He was human, and had human emotions – that much he could not deny; no matter how much he would love to trade them in for complete logic. Even so, it had always been relatively easy for him to lock away his emotions and allow his head to rule all of his actions. Now it seemed that all of the rules he had ever created for himself were being broken in one fell swoop.

Never before had he been so willing to risk everything he had painstakingly created for himself over one person. It was worrying that one man could so thoroughly mess up L's entire life with so little effort.

Then there had been C's parting statement – 'I'm as supernatural as they come'. That was what he had said – now the only question was, what had he meant? L had quickly learned that although C didn't often lie outright, he stretched and warped the truth so far that it appeared he had never said anything of use in the first place.

As it was, L decided to compile a quick list of all the things he did and didn't know about C.

_Things I do know: he is somehow supernatural, he calls himself a child of the night, he 'sees death', he does not work alone, he can leap incredible distances from tall buildings easily and he affects me in a way that no other human has ever done before._

_Things I do not know: just about everything else._

That was hardly helpful, but it would give him a few questions that he could ask Beyond when the video finally connected on the other end.

A box popped up on the computer screen, and L leaned forward eagerly, his grey eyes devouring the sight of Beyond in his prison overalls. The murderer leaned back casually in his chair, having no doubt been forbidden from sitting crouched on the seat. One thumb rested against his lips and his eyes were hooded as he gazed calmly into the camera.

"L," he acknowledged. "I was wondering how long it would be before you contacted me."

"Beyond," L replied in the same tone of voice, though of course, it was scrambled in the interest of anonymity. "I have some questions I would like to ask you." Beyond leaned forward, his dark eyes glinting eagerly, and for a brief second L thought that he saw them shine red.

"Is that so? Well then, ask away L old boy," he said, his English accent thickening slightly as though in mockery of their nationality. _Beyond hasn't changed, _L mused glumly. _He's still as insane as he ever was. I wonder how long it'll be before he manages to bring up jam in the conversation. Or body parts. Whichever – he was never too picky._

"It has to do with your meeting with the infamous C," L began cautiously, staring intently at the screen for any reaction Beyond might unconsciously have – insane though he was, Beyond was too intelligent to let L see his reaction willingly. L thought that he saw the slightest sharpening in Beyond's eyes and perhaps the faintest quirk of his lips. Then again, he could have imagined it; seen the reaction he wanted to see.

"I see. Why the sudden interest, Lawlipop?" Beyond asked, voice mocking, eyes unreadable.

L flinched slightly at the use of his old Wammy House nickname. "C has been particularly active lately, and I have been gathering information on him. I was told that you had met him – is that true?"

"Hm? I suppose 'met' is a bit of a strong word. He put me in a headlock, after all, and wouldn't even tell me his name. How rude, don't you think?" Beyond shrugged lazily. "In fact, I got the distinct impression that he didn't like me. Can you imagine that, L? Absurd, I know."

"Beyond, that's quite enough, thank you," L sighed, placing his thumb against his lips and absently tracing their outline with the tip of his ragged nail. "Did you see his face, or notice anything distinguishing about him?"

"His face? No, sorry, he was far too quick and prepared for that – he moved like a striking snake," Beyond sighed and for a moment, his eyes were wistful. "Were he not a detective, he would have made a fantastic killer. So young, too, I could tell by his voice, and he was _strong_." Beyond giggled gleefully, and L felt suddenly very uncomfortable.

Swallowing hard against the disgust that blocked his throat, L tried to speak again. "When, exactly, did you meet C?"

"Around the same time I tried to kill myself – it really was quite fortunate that I met him, you know. I was beginning to think that I was the only one."

"The only one? Only one of what?" L asked cautiously.

"Oh, that's not important right now, Lawlipop," Beyond said, waving a hand vaguely. "What _is_ important is _why_ you're suddenly so interested in C. Anything happen recently, Lawlipop? Anything your old pal B should know about?"

"C has been quite active recently, and he's been leaving some rather infuriating clues for us to find – that's all. I'm contacting everyone who might know something about it," L said, stifling the anger in his tone. How dare B suggest such things? _But he didn't,_ an annoying voice in the back of L''s mind nagged. _You came to that conclusion all by yourself. _"There's no need to think that you're anything special, Beyond."

Beyond laughed, the sound slightly hysterical, and L gritted his teeth angrily, trying to block the sound from his mind. "I am, though, I am special! Know why, know why? C does! C's special, I'm special, and you know what else?" B leaned forwards, towards the camera and lowered his voice as though he was imparting a great secret upon L. "You're not."

L raised an eyebrow that Beyond could not see, from the small interrogation room in the prison he was being held at. "Is that so?"

"Yes, yes, yes! We aren't the same as you, Lawlipop! No, no, no; our eyes, our eyes are different to yours," Beyond crowed, giggling shrilly. He seemed to be delighted that there was something he knew that L didn't. "Our eyes are the same, C and me, but yours, L, can't compare."

"Really," L asked, his voice so flat that it was impossible to tell that he was asking a question – it sounded like a mere statement. "Why is that, B?" Beyond shrugged.

"How should I know? I was born with them, but I don't think C was – he had no idea how I'd gained mine."

"What I meant," L began, rolling his eyes. "Is why can't my eyes compare to yours, or C's?"

"Well, that's a somewhat difficult question to answer," Beyond said evasively, examining his fingernails. L felt his stomach heave as Beyond suddenly tore open the healing scabs on his fingertips, licking contentedly at the beads of blood that formed there. "I suppose it could be something to do with what we see that you don't. Contrariwise, it could be said that it has more to do with what we don't see. And at the same time, it's something to do with what we know and can calculate. Then again, it's something of what we are shown and don't know. Did that help?" Beyond glanced up momentarily, his smirk amused.

"Not in the slightest," L admitted easily. Beyond had intended for his statements to be cryptic – he would have known that L was lying had he said that it did help.

"What a shame," Beyond yawned. "Perhaps this'll be a little more helpful. What we do see is death, what we don't see is life. We calculate how much time a person has until they die, so we are shown _when_ a person will die, but we don't know _how. _You see?"

"Yes," L answered cautiously. So Beyond could also 'see death'? Did that make him a child of the night like C then? Could L risk asking a question like that?

"No you don't, that's the whole point," Beyond giggled. "I see; you don't."

L rubbed his forehead tiredly, feeling the beginnings of a headache. Dealing with Beyond was never easy at the best of times, and it seemed that the time spent imprisoned hadn't changed the boy's personality in the slightest. "Of course. Is there anything else you know about C that could be of use to me?"

Beyond appeared to think about it for a second. "Not really – if you want to know anything more, you might be better off contacting Naomi Misora. You know; your little puppet. I think she might have seen his face when she came in the room."

"Naomi Misora?" L asked, frowning. It wasn't that he hadn't heard or understood – he just needed to repeat it to absorb what Beyond was telling him.

"Mhm, that's the one. I didn't like her very much, though. She wouldn't try any of my jam." Beyond said rather sulkily. "And she didn't like my coffee." L raised his eyes to the heavens, praying silently for patience.

"Alright, thank you, Beyond," L said, reaching forward with one finger to tap at the laptop keys and cut the video connection. After a couple of seconds the screen went black, and L leaned back slightly in his chair, thinking hard at the sort of speed that only a genius such as him could manage.

Beyond had given him quite a bit to think about – not least of which was his rather disturbing attachment or attraction or whatever it was to C. The way Beyond had spoken of the young detective was admiring and wistful all at the same time; L wondered why that made him feel so sick. He wasn't homophobic – people could do whatever they wanted with their personal lives as far as he was concerned. The only time it mattered to him was when they broke the law severely.

Not forgetting, of course, the case of the eyes that could see death. Beyond had explained it far more thoroughly than C ever had, and for the first time in his life, L felt that he could understand and sympathise with Beyond, even a little bit. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it must be like to have to always know when a person would die – to have been forced to see that for all of his life. Beyond would have known when his parents were destined to die, would have had to live with that right until the moment when it actually happened.

No wonder Beyond was so insane.

So, then, how did C cope? What was it that made him so different to Beyond? Was it because he was not born with the eyes? Then, surely that would make it worse – to not have any chance to grow used to them before suddenly being able to know immediately when a person would die. Maybe it was simply that their personalities were naturally so different to one another – perhaps C would always have been better at coping with the eyes, born with them or not.

L sighed and put a hand to his head; all of this deep, philosophical thinking was making him desperate for a coffee. He still wasn't sure that he could bring himself to believe in such nonsense as eyes that could see a person's death day, but both C and Beyond spoke of them with such conviction. Even if the eyes did not really exist, then the two of them believed that they did.

Slowly, L uncurled himself from his crouched position on the chair and made his way to the small kitchen area of his hotel room. Watari was with the Japanese police force, gathering information on Kira, and L had already contacted the head of the FBI. Really, he had nothing left to do.

Moving silently around the kitchen, L quickly managed to locate the necessary requirements of a good cup of coffee – instant coffee granules, milk, water, a kettle, a mug, a spoon and an unopened packet of sugar cubes. Perfect.

"Hm, thirsty, are you L?" A soft voice asked from behind him as a pair of arms snaked around his waist. "Me too." L tensed slightly before realising he recognised the voice.

L may have been a social recluse, but even he understood that some things were not done in normal society under most circumstances – two male virtual strangers embracing like this was one of them. They stood close together, the gesture terrifyingly intimate, and as L knew from experience (he had once tried to hug Naomi Misora, after all) most people did not generally appreciate being hugged by strangers.

This felt nice, though. C's skin was warm, and he smelt of something that L couldn't quite place but that he might compare to moonlight, were he that sappy. Either way, he wasn't really complaining; though he was beginning to question C's sexual preferences.

"Have you heard the news?" C asked, and L replied with a quiet, questioning hum in the back of his throat as he continued to prepare his coffee. "The news. Have you heard it?"

"What news?" L asked, finally relenting. He stirred his hot drink idly, waiting for all of the sugar to dissolve properly – it wouldn't taste right otherwise, and would only be semi-sweet. He had lost count of the number of sugar cubes added after about the sixth or seventh, but that was not an important detail.

"Kira somehow managed to discover that you planned to use the FBI to investigate – it seems that someone cannot be trusted with information, as they all died earlier today. I received a call from a rather distressed Naomi Misora about half an hour ago, and it would appear that her fiancé Raye was one of the unfortunate victims. I presume that you hadn't been told?" C's warm breath tickled L's neck, and when he let go to walk towards the lounge, L felt a strange sense of loss.

C's phone beeped quietly, and L had to forcibly reign in his curiosity, reminding himself that C did have a life outside of visiting him and turning in criminals.

"So, L," C said casually as he flipped his phone open, expression impassive behind the mask. "What do you plan to do now?" L let out a long breath, carrying his coffee back over to the small table in the centre of a semi-circle of chairs.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. For some reason with C, it was easier to admit ignorance than it was to feign knowledge. "I think it's about time I formed my taskforce; something needs to be done about this situation. Will you be a member, or will you send Naomi Misora in your place?"

"I'll have to give the matter some thought," C said, sighing as placed his phone back into one of his coat pockets. "But whatever we do, we'll have to move fast." Calmly, C picked up one of the many remote controls lying around on the table and aimed it at the TV. The television set flickered slightly before the picture bloomed on the screen. Flipping through the channels at an alarming speed, C's brown eyes never once strayed from the screen. L frowned quietly, wondering what on Earth it was that C was searching for.

Eventually, C came to a stop on a news channel, settling back with his legs elegantly crossed and a tiny frown marring his otherwise-smooth forehead.

"C? What are you..." L began, before C rather rudely shushed him.

"Just watch and listen," he said quietly, his eyes briefly flicking from the screen to meet L's before he turned back, focusing once more on the news. L was shocked to see C's lips curl back slightly from his teeth, a low growl-like sound rumbling from deep in his chest. The sound was animalistic and furious; L shrank back slightly, stunned by the uncharacteristic loss of control on C's part.

"... We have here an exclusive tape from Kira himself, which we have been ordered to view at precisely six o' clock. Everyone in this building is being held hostage by Kira; I promise you, this is not a hoax, or a publicity stunt..."

C was out of the window before the newsreader had a chance to finish his sentence.

* * *

Light swore furiously under his breath, cursing the idiotic mortal who sent that tape. It clearly wasn't Kira – this wasn't his style – but it seemed genuine enough to get people panicking.

Not only that, but he was also furious at himself – when he had first arrived in L's hotel room, he had so nearly lost control of himself. The scent of the human's blood hadn't changed in the slightest – if anything, Light desired it even more, and he was used to getting what he wanted, despite his impeccable self-control. The way he had held L, he had been able to feel the heat of his skin against his lips, the pulse fluttering just below the surface. Only at the last second had he managed to regain control over himself and draw away.

Then he had received Ienipa's message. _Watch the news. Sakura TV. Another notebook. _That had been all – yet it was enough to push him beyond all reasonable thought. As though one Kira wasn't enough, there was now a second running around, without a care in the world. Honestly, humans were all so _useless_!

Light's black coat whipped behind him as he raced easily through the streets, hating that he was restricted to human speeds. Furious growls and snarls echoed around him, ripping from between his clenched teeth. He could feel his vision flickering and wavering, red flashing before his eyes as his hunting instinct begged to be let loose. His teeth had lengthened into fangs, the sharp points cutting into the skin of his lip; the pain wasn't enough to distract him.

Light's phone was in his hand the instant it started to ring, and he didn't need to look at the caller ID to know who it would be. "Where are you?"

"We're waiting for you just around the corner from the studio where it's being filmed," Ienipa said calmly. "We have a car with tinted windows, so don't worry about that."

"Understood," Light replied quickly, stuffing his phone back into his pocket with none of his usual serenity. Humans kept getting in his way, and he felt like he constantly had to swerve to avoid them. Their reaction time was so slow, and he didn't have enough time to be polite.

When he finally arrived, the others were all waiting for him, already piled into the car, masks covering their faces and hiding them from view. Light threw open the door, sliding into the seat, bracing himself as Kietheren started pulling away from the curb before he even had a chance to close the door. Light settled back into the seat, gripping hold of the door handle as Kietheren drove straight through the glass door, small shards of glass falling to the floor like rain, shattering on impact. It was very beautiful, Light had to admit, but this was no time to stand around and admire such things.

It wasn't too difficult to find the right room – Light easily followed his ears, grateful that vampires' senses were so much sharper than those of humans. There wasn't a lot of noise to distinguish it from all of the others, but thankfully the dialogue was very easy to recognise. Light growled under his breath when he heard something about tapes sent by Kira himself. Kira himself indeed! As if Kira would pull such a ridiculous, attention-grabbing stunt.

_Hopefully there'll be some physical evidence we can use, but this second Kira may be quite intelligent for all we know – I doubt that he or she will have left anything behind for us to investigate._ Light's thoughts were going a mile a minute.

He stormed into the room with all of the commanding power of a hurricane, and immediately almost all eyes turned towards him. The producer – a stout, flabby man that reeked of sweat – frowned at him, his rounded face turning an ugly shade of purple.

It didn't take very much time or effort to obtain the tapes that Sakura TV had been planning to show – a few well placed threats here, a few mentioned connections there, and the producer looked like he himself was going to have a heart attack. Light smirked beneath his mask, feeling absurdly smug. It really was so easy to fluster humans like that – they were such fragile creatures.

Light whipped out his phone – the one that had previously belonged to Quillish Wammy – and pressed one on the speed dial. The phone only rang twice before L picked up, and Light felt his gloved hand tighten involuntarily around the handset at the sound of L's voice.

"C," was all he said, evidently confident of who the caller would be.

"L, I have something you might want to take a look at – according to Sakura TV, Kira himself sent some tapes that he wanted to be aired live on television tonight. Perhaps you could work on getting that little task force of your together so that you can investigate it, hm?"

"Don't worry – I have already decided who will likely remain and work with me after my stunt with the FBI. No doubt I'll be able to meet with them in a few days time. What about you? Have you decided what you will be doing?"

"Almost," Light sighed. "Though I think I will have to have a talk with Naomi Misora about what she wants to do – I'm sure she has some very strong opinions on the subject since her fiancé was one of the FBI agents killed by Kira." Light shut his eyes for a brief moment, full of something that was not unlike regret – a part of him wished that he could have protected Raye Penber. Mostly for the sake of keeping his one human employee sane, but also partly because he simply felt guilty.

How strange – Light never used to care for the lives of individual humans.

"Ah, yes. Please, give her my condolences," L said, and Light had to wonder how sincere he was being. Whilst it was true that he had worked with Naomi, Light suspected that he had worked with dozens of similar people; it was unlikely that L grew emotionally attached to any of them.

"Of course," Light replied mechanically, planning silently what he would do next. He held the envelopes close to his face, inhaling deeply. His brow furrowed angrily when he realized that he recognised the faint scent that still clung to it – he just couldn't remember where he had smelled it before, nor whose scent it was.

Nevertheless, he had memorised it now, and would no doubt know it should he encounter the person again.

"I hope to see one of you – either you yourself or Naomi in your place – very soon," L said, and Light smirked.

"Naturally," he said, hanging up without another word.

* * *

In a darkened room, a quiet laugh filled the air, growing louder with each passing second. In the corner, a shinigami watched the human, confusion running amok inside its head. A television flickered in the room, the sound turned right down until only a faint murmuring could be heard. The room was sparsely decorated, pristine sheets laid out on the sofa in the place of a bed.

The TV was switched off, and the only light left in the room was provided by a pair of glowing red eyes.

* * *

**How did I do? Was everyone reasonably in character? Are you annoyed that the lovely LightxL is taking so long, and that L has yet to discover Light's true nature? Fear not, it will happen... sometime. Eventually. When I've figured it all out ;P**

**P.S. How was Beyond? I love that little tyke... er, psycho.**


	17. Execution

**Holy hufflemuffins, procrastination will be the death of me, I'm sure. Sorry that this chapter is slightly shorter than previous ones - contrary to my hopes and expectations, I've been rather busy during the holidays D': Ah well, not much I can do about it.**

**On the upside, new chapter :D**

**Death Note - Most certainly not mine.**

**Chapter 16: Execution**

* * *

By the time Light arrived at Naomi Misora's house, it was almost daylight, and Light could feel his strength beginning to drain away, exhausted by too many hard nights and long days of working. Even vampires had a limit as to how long they could go without sleep or nourishment, and Light had almost reached that point. His head was spinning and his knees felt weak; Light knew that he needed blood.

The door opened, revealing Naomi's sad, tear-stained face. When she saw who it was, her eyes brightened slightly, but she couldn't muster a smile – Light tried to be sympathetic. She had just lost her fiancé, after all, but this was no time to allow emotions to get the better of oneself.

Without a word, Naomi stepped away from the door, having given Light permission to enter her place previously. Light walked inside with his head politely bowed, respecting her need to grieve. He had never lost anyone close to him as she had, but he remembered how it had felt when he had realised that he would not be able to contact his family; that was close. After all, he had lost them forever, just as Naomi had lost Raye.

When Light reached the centre of the room, he paused, his eyes hidden behind his long fringe, the strands of hair tickling his forehead. He took a deep breath, swallowing the remains of his pride, reminding himself that this was Naomi – whom he trusted with his life. He knelt before her, head still bowed.

"Please, forgive me, Naomi," he murmured, unable to raise his voice any louder – this was shameful enough as it was. "I should have been able to protect Raye."

Naomi sniffed quietly, and Light heard a soft, choked sob that he was sure would have been inaudible to human ears. His eyes widened when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his neck, and Light frowned when he realised that he was being hugged. Light wasn't so cruel as to push Naomi away when she was so upset, but being this close to a human without feeding disturbed him slightly.

He sighed and hugged her back, rubbing soothing circles between her shoulder blades as he had done for Sayu when she was a child and had come to him after a nightmare. Naomi was like the big sister he had never had or particularly wanted – this was the least he could do for her when she was clearly in such pain. He had spent a long time observing humans, and knew almost everything there was to know about their nature, but he had virtually no experience in dealing with them like this.

"Don't be stupid, Light – it isn't you that should be sorry, it's Kira," Naomi said, her voice strong and steady despite the tears that fell from her eyes. Light admired that.

"Light?" Naomi asked after a brief pause. Light hummed softly in acknowledgment, afraid that the sound of his voice might shatter the fragile peace that had descended and settled over the two of them. "We will... catch Kira, right?"

It was the first time he had heard Naomi sound so uncertain, and unconfident in his abilities. He tightened his arms around her slightly.

"Yes. And when we do, I myself will personally make sure that he gets the death penalty."

* * *

Soichiro Yagami rested his head in his hands, eyes squeezing shut to suppress the ache induced by exhaustion. He felt drained – the Kira case meant that he hadn't been home in days, and hadn't had a decent sleep for almost as long. Having learned that L had hired several FBI agents to investigate members of the police force, the majority of those working with him had quit the Kira case, asking to be reassigned somewhere else; he couldn't blame them. He had almost asked to be moved himself.

However, an image of Light's face had risen, unbidden in his mind – to him, it seemed that Light was dissatisfied; angry, even. Soichiro gritted his teeth, filled with a new resolve – Light wouldn't have wanted him to quite. Light himself would never have quit, especially not something like this.

Light had been the perfect example of what an ideal policeman should be – dedicated, hardworking, intelligent, resourceful... The list went on, and it disturbed Soichiro sometimes to think that even at age seventeen, Light would have been a far better policeman than he would ever be.

Soichiro was certain that, had his son survived that night, he would be here now, working with his father on this case. It had always been Light's ambition to work as an officer of the law, and no doubt his brilliant mind would have been attracted to a case like this one, just as L's was.

It may have sounded stupid, but Soichiro almost wished that Light could have met L, even once. The detective had been Light's hero for many years, and in his heart, Soichiro didn't doubt that his son was just as intelligent as the great L. Who knows? Maybe L would even have recognised Light as the genius that he was – most people did. It might have been arrogant to think something like that, but Soichiro had never been one for over-estimating people's abilities; it was no different with his son.

A quiet sigh fell from his lips as weary eyes slid shut, the now-cold coffee on his desk all but forgotten. The caffeine had kept him going for most of the day, but he knew that he would need to go home and sleep soon – as well as see what remained of his family.

He knew that his wife and daughter needed him as much as he needed them. They both still felt the loss of Light as though they had lost only five days ago rather than five years – Sayu in particular. She dearly missed her big brother, and practically idolised him; Soichiro had to be strong for them, even if he himself felt as though he was breaking apart inside whenever he saw or heard anything that reminded him of Light.

This Kira case... It made him realise how careless he had been before with his other assignments – how recklessly he had acted, throwing himself into danger using the justification that Light would have expected it from him.

What would Light really want? A strong father that took his job seriously – a man he could aspire to be like? Or a man who tried to preserve his life for the sake of his family? Which would Light have preferred him to be? Or would Light have wanted something different altogether?

It scared Soichiro that he didn't know the answer. It almost felt like he never knew his son.

"Hm, it seems that the numbers have dwindled quite a bit... still, I am impressed that this many of you have chosen to stay," L's electronic voice echoed throughout the almost empty room – Soichiro's head jerked back up, blinking several times as he struggled to focus on L's words.

"I think that this situation has gone on for long enough," L said, and Soichiro heard a couple of confused mutters – most likely from Aizawa and Matsuda. "Now that the numbers have been reduced to only those I know are dedicated, I would like to meet with you. Watari will be able to provide you with the necessary details regarding my location, and when best to arrive – though I would prefer it if you arrived in two groups, so as to avoid attracting unnecessary attention."

A quiet click signalled the end of the rather one-sided conversation, and Watari wordlessly closed the laptop. The instructions he gave the policemen were rather simple – he gave the name of the hotel and told the first group to arrive at quarter past ten in the evening, whilst the other group was to arrive half an hour later.

Soichiro supposed that such a course of action was logical, but even so, it didn't give him nearly enough time to go home and see his family. He hoped that Sachiko and Sayu had remembered to visit Light's grave and change the flowers, as it seemed that he wouldn't be able to do so for a little while.

Soichiro felt almost... resentful towards the whole situation. It had robbed him of a normal, relaxing life and career; what was the world coming to when a man wasn't even able to pay his own family a visit?

Even so, he could not refuse L's request – this case was too serious for him to do such a thing, and besides, he was sure that Light would have been very disappointed in him if he refused an opportunity to progress the Kira case.

"Hey chief, are you feeling alright?" Matsuda asked, his voice laced with concern for his superior. The chief regarded the younger policeman with weary eyes.

"I'm fine thank you, Matsuda. I just need a good night's sleep," Soichiro replied honestly, fighting back a yawn as he did so. Matsuda smiled and nodded understandingly, his eyes sympathetic.

"I think that we all do, chief," he agreed. "The Kira case is really taking its toll on everyone here, huh?"

You could say that," Soichiro grimaced. "I haven't had a decent night's sleep since this all began, and I haven't been home for days..." He rubbed his eyes, feeling grit beneath his fingers.

"I know," Matsuda said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "But let's face it chief, we're all in the same boat right now, you know? And if we're working this hard, I hate to think how this all must be affecting L." Soichiro had to admit that Matsuda made an excellent point.

"And C too – remember how L said that C was helping him on this case?" Matsuda added, his voice brightening slightly. The majority of the police force was in complete awe of the utterly anonymous detective – they all thought that it was amazing that he had managed to track down L all by himself when all of the policing agencies combined hadn't even come close.

Soichiro shook his head – he didn't understand how some people could be so frighteningly intelligent – but then, wouldn't Light have fitted into that category rather well? He had been titled a genius by several; a young prodigy as he had been described.

"Yeah – the thought of those two working together on a case terrifies me, and I'm a policeman; it's not even like I'm a criminal! I hate to think what sort of chance Kira has now that the two greatest detectives in the world have joined forces against him. They say that C's ability to find and catch criminals is almost inhuman," Matsuda continued, and Soichiro sighed. It was irritating that some people actually believed in nonsense like that.

"I know Matsuda, I've heard all of the rumours, and I've worked on several cases involving him before – he's clever and difficult to catch I'll admit, but you shouldn't believe in everything you hear," Soichiro said sternly. Matsuda stared at the ground beneath his feet for a moment looking suitably embarrassed before he perked up again.

Stupid things like that... what nonsense, right Light?

* * *

Light was leaning against the wall, desperately trying to catch his breath, his heart pounding in his throat, vision flickering as his instincts threatened to take him over completely. He hadn't been exerting himself, nor doing anything strenuous, but he hadn't hunted for far too long. He felt weak and lightheaded, yet at the same time his thoughts were incredibly focused; he couldn't rid his head of images of blood stained corpses, porcelain skin dyed red, blood dripping from saturated hair...

A hoarse scream ripped from Light's dry throat as he smashed his head repeatedly into the wall behind him; though that accomplished nothing more than a damaged wall and a mild headache. It certainly wasn't enough to distract him from his bloodlust.

He had all but fled from Naomi when he felt his control slipping, not wishing to hurt her after she had been such a valuable colleague and... Well not friend, per se, but as close as a human could come. Either way, no matter what she was to him, she had done nothing to deserve being on the receiving end of his thirst.

Small whimpers caught in his chest – something that Light was utterly ashamed of – and he gripped at the concrete beneath him hard enough to leave dents in the solid surface. His desperate attempts to hold himself in place seemed to be working for the most part; he hadn't gone a murderous rampage yet, at the very least. However, he couldn't guarantee that once he began feeding he would be able to stop.

Not to mention that he didn't have the time or the self control to go searching for a human he wouldn't mind killing.

Light hated feeling so weak and helpless; it was a severe blow to his already dented pride, and his one comfort was that there was no one here who would recognise him. At least he could suffer without being seen.

"Excuse me, sir? Are you alright?" Light's only response was a growl, and he couldn't stop the thousands of sarcastic thoughts that flew through his mind in a matter of seconds.

"Get away from me," he hissed, cradling his aching head between his hands. _Go, go, go, before I kill you._

"But sir, you look sick! Would you like me to call an ambulance?" The irritating human persisted, and Light finally lost his temper. He shoved the person away from him, his eyes glowing a horrific red as he snarled viciously at the person. A slight gasp escaped his lips as a rush of dizziness consumed him, his head falling back into his hands. Shivers ran down the entire length of his body and he began to shake uncontrollably. Being so close to a _warm, alive, delicious_ human was a true test of his control; Light thought that maybe for the first time in his life he was going to fail a test.

"I said get away," he snarled, his canines cutting through the thin skin of his lips, the droplets of blood doing nothing to ease his longing; if anything, they only made it stronger.

"Please, sir, let me help you," the human begged, and Light let out a sound that was half a warning growl and half a helpless sob. He didn't want this human here; didn't want them to get hurt by him, something that was becoming more and more likely as time went on. Though Light knew that he desperately needed blood, he didn't want to take it from an innocent.

When a warm hand touched his shoulder, Light knew that the battle was lost. With a silent plea for forgiveness directed at any god that might listen, Light lunged forwards, his instinct guiding him to where the blood ran hot and thick, close to the surface.

The taste was unimaginable; sickening and cloying, it seemed to stick to the roof of Light's mouth and trickle down his throat drop by drop, yet he couldn't stop feeding, or stop the rush of memories that flooded his mind. He fought desperately against the urge to cough, to claw at his tongue with his fingernails, and wondered why this blood tasted so foul. Perhaps he had simply been spoiled with L's blood – or maybe it was just this human. There was no way for Light to know right then, and to be perfectly honest, he didn't much care.

The pathetic human moaned weakly, clutching at his coat with frail hands as she pressed closer to him, and Light stamped down on the urge to flee from this girl; he knew that it wasn't her fault. Every human reacted the same way when they were being drained – Light remembered the sensation well, and he couldn't really blame her for having such a strong reaction.

Horror shot through Light as he felt the body in his arms relax suddenly, and he jerked his mouth away from the human girl's throat, his ears straining desperately for a heartbeat. It was there, but so faint that even Light struggled to hear it at first. The girl was on the brink of death, and now there were only two options left for her – to die or to become a vampire. Light already knew which option he was going to choose.

He had looked through Misa Amane's memories; a strange girl, even by human standards. He had saved her not long ago, and she had been obsessed with him ever since, yet that had only fuelled her determination to use the death note to capture his attention. Light felt nauseous just thinking about it, and was – for once – grateful that he had been forced to witness the memories of a human.

At least this way he didn't feel so guilty about letting the girl die. At least if he was ever asked, he could reply that it was simply the execution of the second Kira.

* * *

L stared silently at the screen before him, scrolling quickly through page after page of useless information. Having narrowed the taskforce down this far, he had thought that it would be wise to research them thoroughly. For hours now, he had been poring over file after file about each of the members of the task force, their immediate family, extended family, close friends, colleagues and acquaintances.

Most of it made for very dull reading, although he would occasionally find something interesting. However, he found nothing particularly suspicious, nor did he find anything that might reveal how Kira was able to get his hands on classified police information. L ground his teeth in frustration, and crunched up several sugar cubes at once to try to ease his anger.

Already, L had almost finished his task – all he had left to check were Soichiro Yagami's relatives, and that shouldn't take too long. As far as he could tell, the family was relatively small, with few members outside of his immediate family.

L rested his chin on the palm of his hand, double clicking on each file in turn and scanning it for anything that seemed even the slightest bit suspicious or out-of-the-ordinary.

L could find nothing of any interest in the extended family, and Soichiro's daughter seemed quite average too. Nothing to clear his suspicions but nothing to feed them either. It was when he began looking at Soichiro's son that his interest was piqued.

Light Yagami – a genius, a prodigy, according to many of his reports. He had never scored anything less than one hundred percent on a test, was a perfect gentleman and a tennis champion; all in all, he seemed too good to be true, and L felt his brow furrow as he continued reading. The boy would be twenty two by now, though there didn't appear to be any recent information on him. Even the last photo was taken by his school when he was seventeen years old.

Looking at the picture, L realised suddenly _why_ he was so fascinated by this 'Light'. It was because the boy reminded him of C – in fact, if L didn't know better, he would have said that he was the perfect candidate for the elusive detective. The intelligence in the cool brown eyes was complimented by the handsome face and arrogant expression the boy wore – all of his information suggested a young genius. His father was a strong-hearted policeman who had no doubt drummed a good sense of justice into the boy from a young age, and Light seemed to be around the right age to be C.

L was incredibly excited that he might have finally discovered the identity of his secretive friend... That was, until he scrolled down a touch more. That certainly explained why there was no recent information – Light Yagami had been dead for five years.

Reading quickly through the case notes, L raised a sceptical eyebrow; no evidence at the crime scene? It was more likely that the ones collecting evidence had simply been incompetent, and for a moment L wondered why he hadn't taken such a strange case. Until he remembered, of course, that once murder hardly qualified as interesting enough to hold the great L's attention, no matter how well it had been executed.

Even so, one of L's only thoughts as he continued reading was _C started showing up at around the same time Light was killed._

* * *

**I... Killed Misa. And I don't feel overly guilty about it... hehe... And for those of you going 'le gasp! Light killed her!' I have a news flash: he is a sociopathic vampire. He needs blood, and she was a murderer. On the plus side - I love a bit of Naomi/Light friendship, don't you?**

**Actually, I do kinda feel bad about killing Misa, but it is necessary for plot progression (and so that I could kill someone to match the title. Whatever. We won't miss her that much, surely?) I will (hopefully) explain how/why Misa had a death note, how/why Light did not notice earlier, etc, etc. Sometime. ****Also, I think L might have a little crush on Light... anyone else pick up on that?**

**If this chapter is contradictory to any of the others, please let me know, as I am too lazy to go check. **

**PS, has anyone reading this ever watched Pandora Hearts? Because none of my friends have and I need someone to fangirl with. (OZXGIL OTP FOREVER AND EVER)**


	18. Ally

**This chapter was far more trouble than it was worth. I re-wrote it three times, and I'm still not satisfied. I can't quite put my finger on it, but no matter what I tried it sounded rushed and forced, so in the end I just left it as it was. I couldn't be bothered to write it out again for a fourth time. So, whilst it may not be quite to the standard you were expecting or hoping for, I hope it will be satisfactory for now (also, if any of you can do what I couldn't and figure out what is wrong with this, please tell me. I need to know!)**

**Well, I think that's it for now... apart from the fact I have now decided that I shall call my beautiful Death Note OTP Liliet or Lawlight. Just because it's seriously cute. Reckon it'll catch on?**

**Death Note - yeah, no.**

**Chapter 17: Ally**

* * *

Naomi Misora was – surprisingly – the first to arrive. Then again, maybe it wasn't so surprising after all; she worked for C and the man no doubt demanded the best from his employees, even in regards to punctuality. L let her in without any words being exchanged between the two – what was the point? He knew who she was, she knew who he was and nothing could be explained without the presence of the rest of the taskforce.

L left her to her own thoughts – she stared silently out of the window, her eyes distant. He supposed that was to be expected; her fiancé had recently been murdered, after all. Idly, L wondered whether she had chosen to represent C, or whether he had simply decided that it would be too risky for him to appear in person. He was leaning towards the former; Naomi Misora was a woman of action, as he well knew, and she no doubt wanted to play a part in the downfall of Kira.

"I assume that C has you bugged so that he can listen in on the conversation," L stated calmly, curling up on one of the armchairs, his relaxed pose and wary gaze somewhat reminiscent of a cat. "After all, I doubt he would trust you to remember everything word for word. No offense intended."

"None taken," Naomi replied smoothly, her face calm. "And you are absolutely right. C's probably listening to us as we speak. If he has anything to say during the meeting, he'll find a way to contact us."

L nodded thoughtfully, glancing at the clock hanging from the wall. There was still almost a quarter of an hour before the other members of the taskforce were due to arrive.

"I trust C passed on my condolences?" L asked awkwardly after a few minutes of silence. He wasn't particularly experienced when it came to social interaction, and he hated having to speak face-to-face with people. He much preferred the safety of a computer screen and altered voice.

"Yes, he did," Naomi replied softly, gazing out of the window with a somewhat blank expression. "He also expressed how sorry you were that you couldn't tell me in person – I got the feeling he added that part himself."

The corners of L's lips quirked upwards slightly at Naomi Misora's insightfulness. He had almost forgotten how intelligent she was; it made a nice change.

By the time the rest of the taskforce arrived, L had already gone through three cups of coffee and five slices of cake. He had paced restlessly for a short while before eventually taking up residence in one of the slightly nicer armchairs. He was impatient and wanted the meeting to begin already, but with only one other member present, such a thing was an impossibility.

To say that L was an impatient person would have been like calling World War II a petty squabble. He needed to sort through his findings as well as C's so that he could set the facts straight in his head.

In a desperate bid to distract himself whilst waiting, L had turned to Naomi. "According to Beyond Birthday, you have met C in person," he said, his voice completely empty of all emotion. "I am quite curious as to what has happened since then."

Naomi nodded thoughtfully. "Well, it's quite simple, really. I realised who the killer really was whilst I was waiting in the hotel for the murderer to show up. To make a long story short, when I arrived at Beyond's room, C was already there, having worked out who the killer was beforehand – he never explained how. He was restraining Beyond; it surprised me at first."

"And why was that?" L asked apathetically, although he already had several theories.

"Well, as I already knew, Beyond was a dangerous killer with extremely violent tendencies – that he could be restrained at all by one person, no matter who, was surprising. And C – he certainly wasn't what I was expecting."

"I can sympathise," L nodded. "He's definitely unusual." Naomi laughed in a way that suggested she knew a lot more about the situation than L did – something that infuriated him.

"Our first meeting wasn't exactly conventional," she smiled, eyes slightly distant as she remembered. "He was very bossy, but there was a look in his eyes that wouldn't let me disobey, you know? He told me to blindfold and restrain Beyond, which I did, of course. He stayed to make sure that I followed through, and then he left, giving me his card on the way out." L felt his lips twitch. Yes, that did sound like C.

"I met him again about a week later," Naomi sighed. "That was when he asked me to start working for him – I've met him several times since and received several instructions via phone and email; all untraceable of course. My pay is always in my bank account automatically, and believe me, I've tried tracing him."

"I should imagine that such a thing would be next to impossible," L deadpanned. Naomi laughed, her eyes brightening momentarily.

"That's one way of putting it," she agreed easily. The comfortable atmosphere was shattered rather abruptly by the sound of two phones ringing simultaneously. Both checked their messages and grinned somewhat sheepishly when they realised that they said exactly the same thing.

_Surely you have better things to talk about than me? You two gossip like old women._ The number was withheld, and L rolled his eyes. Of course C had been listening. They had already established that Naomi had been bugged so that C could be kept up-to-date.

It seemed that L wouldn't be finding anything about C's real identity today.

* * *

The first group arrived downstairs exactly on time, and were led up to his room by Watari. L greeted them calmly, even as they foolishly introduced themselves using their real names; the look of shock on their faces was priceless when he explained that with that information Kira could quite easily have killed them.

L could feels himself slumping even further into his usual slouched position; none of these men were above average intelligence, and though they were all dedicated and hard-working, they simply weren't up to the high standard set by L and C. They didn't have years of experience working on cases as strange as this one, nor did they have any real information. Whilst it was wonderful that there were still this many on the police force that were willing to risk their lives to catch Kira, L couldn't help but wonder if they would just be dead weights. Kira was killing so many people each and every day – L couldn't afford to be held back by people who couldn't comprehend his thought processes.

Though they made valiant attempts to hide it, it was quite clear to L that all of the new members of his taskforce were extremely curious as to the identity of Naomi Misora. Rather than introduce her, he crouched on his seat and took several sips of coffee. It was really quite amusing to watch the policemen twitch and fidget – particularly Matsuda. It was only a matter of time before he cracked.

"L, who is she?" He asked, quite rudely, staring unabashedly at Naomi. L smiled to himself and took another mouthful of coffee, indicating that Naomi could introduce herself.

"My name is Naomi Misora; ex-FBI agent and currently C's proxy-of-sorts," she said, holding up the small ring around her neck for inspection. It looked like pure silver, L noted with interest. "My fiancé was one of the twelve agents killed by Kira, so C agreed to let me work with you on this case."

As one, the policemen turned to face L, their faces expectant; it was really quite entertaining. They were like robots, just waiting for their commands.

"It's true," L verified, the smallest of wry smiles playing at the corners of his mouth. "I myself have worked with Naomi before, and I know her to be trustworthy-" not the whole truth, but a complete lie either "-not to mention I have C's word that she is, in fact, working for him."

"So C will be working with us on this case then?" Soichiro Yagami asked, his dark eyes probing. Naomi remained almost completely unaffected.

"Yes, he is," she replied. She held up the briefcase that L had noticed when she first arrived but hadn't bothered to ask about. "He also asked me to show you all of these, and he would like to know what you make of them."

Curiously, L leant forward, gazing at the papers Naomi took from the case and placed on the table. His eyes widened as he scanned the graphs and tables, a grin spreading across his face as he read through the files.

"Brilliant," he murmured, his voice slipping into the realm of excited. The other taskforce members exchanged confused glances, staring hard at the paper as though that might help them to understand.

"Here," L said, holding up one of the many sheets scattered around the table. "These are the recent heart attacks in Tokyo concerning only those who are not known criminals – and without any previous heart complaints. Is there anything suspicious that you notice about them all – anything at all?"

Surprisingly enough the youngest member, Matsuda, was the first to make the connection. "They're all high-ranking businessmen!"

"Indeed," L replied. "High-ranking businessmen from some of the most successful companies in Japan; except for one.

"Using this information, C was able to narrow down the list of suspects to only those who worked for the Yotsuba group. Of course, we're still keeping our minds open to alternatives, but it certainly seems likely – over eighty percent, I would say." L took a deep breath and held up the next few relevant sheets of information. "From there, C managed to narrow it down even further; there were only about twenty members of the group who were privy to the information necessary to carry out these murders."

L may have been something of a social recluse, but the excitement in the faces of the other members of the taskforce would have been plain to see to anyone.

"This is incredible," Soichiro Yagami murmured, his voice reverent. "With this sort of information, we should be able to catch Kira in a matter of weeks."

L's phone buzzed.

He could hear Matsuda grumbling about how unfair it was that L was able to keep his phone on whilst they had been instructed to switch them off and leave them on the table – for no other reason than that they irritated L. However, C had to have a way to get in touch with them if he had something important to add.

_Tell them thank you for their kind words, and that I may need their help in investigating these suspects, as my timetable is very restricted._

Dutifully, L repeated C's words, ignoring the excited exclamations from Matsuda, as well as the angry rebuttals from Aizawa. The two of them were like chalk and cheese, but they kept one another in check, for which L was grateful. His life would be hellish if he had to work with a number of arguing buffoons.

Anxiously, he chewed on his thumbnail, his thoughts flickering back to C, and his strange reaction to L's cut. L felt his brow furrow as he tuned out the pointless yakking of the other members of his taskforce. They were here mainly to do the work in public and such that he, as an anonymous detective, could not do. It was unlikely that they would be able to offer any insight into the case.

Even so... it was good to know that he was not alone in this case.

* * *

Kira smiled, the expression overtaking his entire face until he seemed to be lit up from the inside – and not necessarily in a good way. The aura that surrounded him was sickening and violent, Rem decided, shrinking back slightly. She cast an uncertain glance at Ryuk, suddenly unsure as to whether or not she had made the right decision. Ryuk just grinned a little wider and shrugged, the feathers at his shoulder rustling softly.

Never before had Rem seen a human that she would be afraid of; Misa had confused and, at times, alarmed her, but she had never given Rem a reason to be genuinely frightened.

But Kira... Kira was different.

The latest human to possess Gelus's notebook was almost as bad as Kira, and his utter devotion frankly confused her. He virtually worshipped the other human, for no reason that she could discern. She just assumed that it was one of those 'human things' Misa had sometimes spoken of, and hadn't tried to investigate any further.

And yet, the way he pledged his life to the human he had only just met, the way he threw away half of the lifespan he had left just to please him.

Rem couldn't quite tell if it was bravery or stupidity that motivated him. Either way, he terrified her, almost as much as Kira did.

_This is for Misa, _she reminded herself.

_All of this has always been for Misa._L stared morosely at the television without really seeing anything, checking the clock on the wall now and then. He was hoping that C would visit him; it was late, and it was likely that C would already be asleep, but all of his other visits had been at strange times of the night.

* * *

Maybe C was nocturnal.

"I'm sorry, did I keep you waiting?"

L's head jerked around, and there C was, standing casually by the window as though such a thing was completely normal in everyday society. One side of his mouth was quirked slightly, as though in secret amusement, and L found himself eagerly studying the now-familiar mask and few visible features.

An image of Light Yagami flashed before his eyes, and he quickly blinked it away before his facial expression could give him away. No matter how many similarities there were between the two, C could not be Light, and it was better that L remembered that.

"Not really," L replied. "What do you think of them?"

"They will do, I suppose," C shrugged carelessly. "They are certainly not ideal, but I wasn't really expecting them to be." L nodded in agreement. It was true – he had searched through their files and knew almost exactly what they were all capable of. In fact, he probably knew better than they did.

"True. Some of the things that you found were... incredible," L admitted, after a moment of hesitation. C just grinned, his brown eyes shining behind the mask.

"It really wasn't that difficult – it was pure luck that set me in the right direction, actually. Anyone could have come to the same conclusion that I did." L thought that that was either extremely modest of C, or he was taking the piss.

"The point is that no one else did come to that conclusion – I don't know how long it would have taken us to reach the same point if we hadn't had your help," L frowned, turning away slightly. He thought he heard C sigh softly, and he was startled from his quiet reverie by two warm hands upon his shoulders. He glanced up at C's eyes – were they really that intensely brown, or was it just a trick of the light? And did they flash red, or was it his imagination? – reading the understanding there.

"That doesn't matter – the fact is I am here, and we are this far along in the case already. So relax, Ryuzaki," C smiled as he pronounced L's false name. "We will solve this case together."

L took a deep breath. "Of course, you're right," he nodded. "Thank you. I needed that."

C sighed slightly, and L noted with no small amount of embarrassment that the other was still holding onto his shoulders. Yet, the warm weight of his hands was very pleasant, and L found that he was reluctant to move or point out their current position. Very reluctant, in fact.

Acting purely upon impulse, and scolding himself as he did so, L stepped forward slightly, wrapping his arms around C's waist. Bracing himself internally, waiting for the inevitable rejection that would surely follow such a bold move. He thought he felt C draw in an astonished breath, but he quickly regained his composure, and L could feel himself inwardly cheering when C's hands slipped from his shoulders to wrap around him.

"I'm glad... that I can finally work with you on a case," C began hesitantly, and L frowned slightly, confused. "I'd wanted to for several years, you know, but my near-constant travels and my schedule didn't really allow for it. I hate Kira, of course, and I hate what he has done, but I can't help but be thankful for... this, I suppose."

"You know, I also wanted to work with you for a long time," L admitted. "I... admired you, I suppose. I never really thought that we'd be able to work together – it was something of an obsession for a while, I admit. It's nice to know that you're... that you're my ally, as well as my friend."

* * *

"You know," Kira began, eyes glinting in the semi-darkness. "I've been waiting, for someone like you. Someone who understands me and my cause. Someone who knows how I think and can carry out my orders before I've given them."

His smile was eerily wide, reminding Rem rather worryingly of Ryuk. She glanced at the human she was possessing, her apathetic expression masking her unease. Pushing back feelings of regret and fear, she stood behind her human, watching the exchange without interfering. As she should – as any _good_ shinigami should.

"So we have an agreement, then?" Her human asked, his eyes fixed upon Kira with unnatural focus and attention.

"Indeed we do," Kira grinned. "It's good to be working with you, Mikami."


End file.
